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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29195172">Drabbles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoknows/pseuds/whoknows'>whoknows</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Warnings In Author's Note, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:36:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>127,355</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29195172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoknows/pseuds/whoknows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my drabbles.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>224</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. No Bleeding Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>After many years, I've finally collected all my drabbles into one place! You may notice that there are some snippets of my WIPs on here but not all of them - snippets from my newer WIPs and ones that are closer to the top of my priority list will remain a tumblr exclusive until they're fully written and ready to be posted.</p><p>The content of these drabbles varies quite a bit and warning for them would probably take an entire page, so this is your notice that there are scattered throughout: dark themes, violence, explicit sex scenes, drugs and alcohol, BDSM, daddy kink, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of death, blood and gore and more. If you have a known trigger, it may be something that I've written about in these chapters.</p><p>Not included among these drabbles are: prison au, cops au, lactation fic, fluffer au, tattoo verse, pa'verse, college au, arranged marriage fic, feral wolves, other half fic, and solo fic. The pa'verse and college au drabbles will both get their own post at some point.</p><p>Feel free to check out my tumblr for any of the snippets not found here, and for any new drabbles that I may write in the future.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I need to tell you something,” Louis says. His face is a shade paler than it normally is, drawn tight, but he looks determined, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do with them.</p>
<p>Already, Harry is frowning. “What?” he asks warily. The room is empty, and that’s weird. Normally there’s people practically climbing the walls before a show.</p>
<p>This is getting more and more suspicious by the second.</p>
<p>“Come sit with me,” Louis says, tugging at Harry’s arm, trying to lead him over to a couch.</p>
<p>Harry digs his heels in. “Just tell me what it is, Lou.” There’s no way it can be anything good.</p>
<p>Louis sighs, curling his fingers the best he can around Harry’s wrist. “I’m seeing this guy.”</p>
<p>Harry laughs. Louis doesn’t.</p>
<p>“His name is - ”</p>
<p>Harry wrenches his arm out of Louis’ grasp and takes a step back. “Why?” he demands, cutting Louis off.</p>
<p>“Harry,” Louis says softly, hand still outstretched.</p>
<p>“No, you know what, I don’t even want to know,” Harry says, turning on his heel and walking out of the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They play the show, and it’s alright. It’s good, even, and Harry has fun, loses a bit of the tension he’s been carrying in his shoulders since Louis sprung the news on him. He’s not expecting Louis to let it go for long, and he’s right. Once they’re finished, cleaned up and settled on the bus for the night, Louis climbs into Harry’s bunk with him, putting himself on the outside so Harry would have to roll over him to escape.</p>
<p>As far as plans go, it’s one of Louis’ better ones.</p>
<p>“I want to be happy,” Louis whispers into the dark of the night, swinging one leg carefully over Harry’s hips and sitting on top of him.</p>
<p>Harry’s chest hurts. “With some guy you barely know?”</p>
<p>Louis crumples down against Harry’s chest like the strings that have been holding him up were cut, pressing his nose into Harry’s throat. “I have to start somewhere,” he says, still whispering. “I have to try.”</p>
<p>There’s a thousand things Harry wants to say. Most of them are neither nice or supportive. On some level, he understands why Louis wants this, why he wants to date some guy Harry doesn’t know.</p>
<p>The rest of him wants to scream and shout and convince Louis he doesn’t need to do this, though, so he doesn’t say anything.</p>
<p>“Please don’t be upset,” Louis says. There’s an audible tremble in his voice that says he’s about to start crying, and as much as Harry doesn’t like this, he likes the thought of Louis crying even less.</p>
<p>“Shh,” Harry murmurs, gathering Louis’ head up between his hands and kissing the corner of his jaw once, and then the corner of his mouth once more. “It’s okay.”</p>
<p>Louis’ breathing is still a little shuddery, but he takes it, laying his head back down on Harry’s chest and letting himself fall asleep.</p>
<p>Harry was lying. It’s not okay.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. As Wicked As Anything Could Be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p><p>Explicit sexual content<br/>Threesome<br/>Light D/s</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the cab, Louis is anxious, jittery. It probably shouldn’t feel like this - this is just sex, after all, sex with a guy he picked up at a bar, at that. There’s no reason for him to feel like he’s going to crawl right out of his skin because he’s so anxious.</p><p>It’s just - Louis is all too aware of all the ways this could go wrong, especially with Harry beside him. Imagining the headlines if this got out has Louis’ throat tightening. It would be fine if it was just Louis it would affect, but it’s not. It’s more than just him.</p><p>Harry’s thigh presses closer to Louis’, the movement slow and subtle but undeniable. Immediately, Louis starts to breathe easier. Harry’s here for him like he’s always been, and he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be. That’s all that matters.</p><p>Louis inhales deeply and turns to the guy sitting on his other side, Ryan, his name was, and strikes up a conversation about football while sliding his hand across Ryan’s knee. By the time they get to the hotel Louis is almost fully hard in his briefs, and he’s acting out of pure instinct when he tips his head back to catch Harry telling him to go around the back. Louis nods, but he’s dazed. Between him and Ryan they manage to make it to the room with only a minimal amount of touching, eyes heated and gazes lingering.</p><p>Christ, Louis wants this. He <i>really</i> wants this.</p><p>Before he knows it, he’s straddling Ryan’s lap on the bed, making short, breathless little sounds as they kiss, hands buried in Ryan’s hair. He’s so into it that the sound of the door shutting barely rouses him. He wants to turn around and make sure it’s Harry but he can’t quite manage, too lost in the kiss. It’s almost overwhelming, especially when he can’t tell where Harry is.</p><p>Then the familiar sound of loose change hitting wood comes, followed by the clanking of a phone, and Louis relaxes. Feels Harry’s presence as though he’s right behind him, chest burning into Louis’ back through two layers of clothes.</p><p>Louis makes a noise as Ryan moves, gripping his thighs and not breaking the kiss as he flips them, putting Louis on the bed underneath him. Somehow they shed most of their clothes, still kissing, until they’re down to their pants and Louis’ mouth feels a little numb.</p><p>There’s an ache in his chest, one that has nothing to do with the kissing. Louis’ eyes flutter open slowly, kiss breaking as he turns his head to the side, catches sight of Harry sitting on the other bed clad in only his t-shirt and pants, eyebrows furrowed as he concentrates on his phone in his hand.</p><p>The ache in Louis’ chest gets a little heavier. He doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring until Ryan’s voice breaks the silence. “Is this alright?”</p><p>Louis swallows. The question isn’t meant for him.</p><p>“Harry,” Ryan says. Repeats, “Is this okay?”</p><p>The question catches Harry’s attention, has him looking up from his phone. Louis squeezes his eyes closed and tips his face up towards the ceiling, waiting breathlessly for Harry’s answer. He feels as though he can’t move, pinned in place more by the weight of Harry’s approval than that of Ryan’s body on top of him.</p><p>“Why are you asking me?” Harry asks, confused, and Louis is confused too. Doesn’t question it, though.</p><p>There’s some shuffling. Louis keeps his eyes closed even though he desperately - <i>desperately</i> - wants to open them and see what’s going on, see the expressions going across Harry’s face. See what he’s thinking because Louis needs him to be the one doing the thinking right now. Louis <i>needs</i> him to make the decisions right now.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s alright,” Harry decides eventually. Louis breathes out a shaky sigh of relief, one that only lasts a second before Ryan’s pulling his briefs down his trembling thighs, leaving him completely exposed to anyone who happens to be looking.</p><p>Louis only realizes he’s looking at Harry when Harry looks away. He tries to focus on what’s happening, wraps his leg around Ryan’s back and arches up so his arse slides against lube slick fingers. He wants them inside of him, opening him up and making him feel good, but all of his words feel like they’re stuck in the back of his throat, thick and unyielding.</p><p>“Can I?” Ryan asks quietly, and he’s looking at Louis but the question still isn’t meant for him. He sinks into the mattress, almost boneless, when Harry says, “Yes,” instantly, unthinkingly, and licks at his bottom lip as Ryan takes that for what it is and spears him open with a single lube slick finger. Louis doesn’t mean to drift, he really doesn’t, but somehow he finds himself blinking up at the ceiling while Ryan opens him up, building his way up to three fingers slowly.</p><p>Louis feels - he feels full, in a good way, but not entirely satisfied. His eyes slip closed as he thinks about it, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He vaguely hears Ryan ask, “Is it enough?” and can’t figure out how to respond, can’t figure out what he wants, can’t figure out what he needs.</p><p>He’s saved from answering when Harry does. “Yeah, it’s enough. But.”</p><p><i>But</i>, Louis thinks, head lolling to the side so he can hear Harry’s voice better, almost straining towards it, belly gone tight with that feeling again. Not anxiety, not quite, but he needs Harry right now, wants to hear his voice and feel his hands raking through his hair. Wants the scent of his cologne so close it’s embedding itself into Louis’ skin, the warmth of it familiar and comforting.</p><p>“But?” Ryan’s asking, and Louis can feel the weight of Harry’s gaze on his face, pinned there, watching him.</p><p>“Put him on his belly,” Harry says softly, and Louis wants to be offended that they’re talking about him like he’s not there but he just feels warm instead. Like he’s being taken care of. “It’s - it’s better that way, for him.”</p><p>The flush in Louis’ cheeks feels like it’s spreading straight through his core to his cock. He stays still, malleable as Ryan turns him over carefully, and puts his face against the pillow. Gasps into it as Ryan starts pushing inside, curling his fingers into the sheets. It feels nice, thick and a nice width, and Ryan starts moving, finding a solid rhythm, and Louis waits for it to get really good, for him to hit that spot that never fails to get Louis’ toes curling.</p><p>And waits.</p><p>And waits.</p><p>“Pull his knee up,” Harry murmurs. “Not the - the other one, yeah, like that. And maybe make the thrusts longer instead of fast.”</p><p>Ryan does, and Louis’ eyes flutter open, hazily taking in the hotel room and Harry, sitting propped up on the other bed, phone still in his hand but making no effort to look down at it, eyes still fixed on Louis’ face.</p><p>Louis can feel the difference instantly, noises escaping from the back of his throat, lips parting as he pants into the pillow. It feels good, so good, and Louis wants to come, all over the sheets underneath him.</p><p>“How is he going to come?” Ryan asks. Louis squirms underneath him, arching up a bit, trying to get the angle just a little bit better.</p><p>Gets it and can’t stop his moan.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Harry asks, voice deep and drawling, even slower than it normally is. Louis tries to get his ragged breathing under control, listening to every dip and nuance of Harry’s tone, settling over him like a blanket.</p><p>“With my hand or his hand?” Ryan responds. Louis makes another noise, eyelashes fluttering as he thinks about it, imagines it. Imagines how it will <i>feel</i> to come on a cock with a hand around his own. With a deep, soothing voice in his ear while he does.</p><p>“With his own hand,” Harry says, and Louis doesn’t even have to think about it, wiggling his hand between his hips and the bed, curling his fingers around his cock and pulling himself off, barely even able to concentrate on anything other than how he feels, on his orgasm building in the base of his spine until it’s all he cares about.</p><p>Until he comes, pressing his face into the pillow, unable to stop himself from biting at it, belly trembling for several long minutes afterwards. He doesn’t really notice Ryan coming, or him getting dressed, or even him leaving, but he notices it when Harry crouches next to him and smooths his hair off his forehead. Notices it when Harry presses their heads together and pulls the blanket up over Louis’ shoulders, because then, now that Harry’s here and they’re alone, now Louis can sleep.</p><p>So he sleeps.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A/B/O Verse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Bus Crash<br/>Manipulation<br/>A/B/O dynamics</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sleep is easily one of the most wonderful things in life. It’s a necessity to survive but it also feels good, that moment when your head sinks into the pillow and your eyes close, unconsciousness about to overwhelm you.</p><p>Getting jerked out of sleep is never pleasant. It’s even less pleasant when it happens because <i>the bus has fucking crashed</i>.</p><p>The bus has crashed. For a second, Harry can’t catch his breath, shock numbing his brain, making him unable to think. For a second, there’s no thoughts in his head at all, just the sensation of crashing. His head smacks against the wall, dizzying but not overly hard.</p><p>Then, when the fogginess has cleared and he can hear people yelling, the distinctive sounds of Niall and Liam and Zayn melting together. He stumbles his way off the bus, shoulder twinging, and beelines for Paul. People are shouting, making his head hurt, but he can’t, he can’t – </p><p>He doesn’t see Louis.</p><p>“Louis,” he croaks out, digging his fingernails into Paul’s arm. “Louis, where’s - ”<br/><i>Louis</i>.</p><p>Panic wells up in Harry’s throat, his stomach. He can’t breathe, can’t get enough air, vision going hazy.</p><p>Then Louis stumbles off the bus and suddenly Harry can breathe again. He rips his arm out of Paul’s grasp, sprints over to Louis and checks him over gingerly for injuries.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Louis says, catching Harry’s hands and holding them tight. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”</p><p>Harry still can’t breathe properly. It’s almost like his lungs don’t want to co-operate with him. “I thought something happened to you,” he tells Louis, framing Louis’ face in his hands. “I thought something happened.”</p><p>He can’t bear to think about what it would be like if something did happen. He just - he just can’t.</p><p>“Look at me, I’m alright,” Louis says, and Harry wants to believe him, he really does. But he can’t shake the feeling that something could be wrong. Something he can’t smell, can’t see. Something hidden. Louis could still be hurt and Harry wouldn’t know, couldn’t know.</p><p>“I thought something happened to you,” Harry repeats, because it’s the only thing he can think to say. He thought something happened to Louis.</p><p>Louis makes a soft noise, pulling him in, and Harry presses his face against Louis’ throat, breathing him in, thinking <i>please let him be okay</i>.</p><hr/><p>Louis needs to do - something. Louis needs to do something, and he needs to do it fast because Harry’s looking at him with dark, intent eyes, anger simmering through his pores, and he’s about to do something. What exactly he’s gonna do Louis doesn’t know, won’t know until Harry does it, but the movement is seeping out of him even though he’s standing still.</p><p>Louis wants to bite him. Sink his teeth into Harry’s skin, draw blood, make him hurt, because Harry might be angry but so is Louis.</p><p>More than that, though, Louis wants to <i>be</i> bitten. Wants to expose his belly and let his alpha bite him, mark him all over again. It’s not an unusual desire, but it’s frustrating as fuck to be having it right now, in the middle of a fight.</p><p>“Louis, I swear to god - “ Harry starts, a muscle in his jaw jumping.</p><p>“The first time we fucked you knocked me into heat,” Louis says abruptly, cutting Harry off. He doesn’t quite say it on purpose, but he’s been thinking about saying it for quite some time now, and it hangs in the air between them, tightening Louis’ skin.</p><p>Harry’s quiet. He’s staring at Louis, and Louis is staring back at him, and it’s been two official years of being together, longer than that if the years before that count, and Louis does count them, and all Louis wants is for his alpha to take care of him.</p><p>“Baby,” Harry says, low, controlled, and fighting with him always makes Louis at least a little damp, so he’s already wet, but if he wasn’t that one word would do it. “Is that the truth?”</p><p>Is that the truth, he asks, as though he doesn’t know that it’s the exact type of thing Louis would throw in his face. He claims he can see right through Louis but clearly that’s not entirely true.</p><p>“You knocked me into heat and you didn’t even realize it and then you <i>left me</i>,” Louis says. It’s a thought that’s been worming around in the back of his head for years now, sometimes asleep, sometimes not, and it boils over now.</p><p>Guilt rears across Harry’s face, sudden and open. “Lou,” he says.</p><p>There’s a tear there, and like he always does, Louis rips at it, pulling it wider. “You just left me there like that, alone and lonely, didn’t even fight them on it, and I spent the next week riding it out by myself, <i>alone</i>.”</p><p>Alone. That’s what it was. The only time in their relationship that Harry left and Louis was truly <i>alone</i>.</p><p>“I - “ Harry starts, and Louis turns around and walks out of the room.</p><p>He makes it all the way up the stairs and most of the way to the bedroom before he gets shoved up against a wall, pinned in place by Harry’s weight.</p><p>“You’re doing it again,” Harry says, grabbing for Louis’ wrists and pinning them up against the wall. “Manipulating me.”</p><p>Louis is trying to, at least. Harry’s gotten much less easy going about it over the past couple of years, wanting to <i>talk</i> about everything. Louis would much rather Harry just do what Louis wants him to.</p><p>Technically speaking, Louis is the one at fault in this particular fight. Harry’s been mad at him over something stupid for the past three days, and Harry’s version of being angry at him involves spending chunks of time trapping Louis in tight places and kissing him relentlessly before refusing to do any more than that.</p><p>Some omegas might be fine going for days on end without being knotted by their alpha, but Louis isn’t one of them, and that’s something he’s known about himself pretty much since the day he met Harry. After the first time Harry knotted him there were days Louis’ fingers would tremble from resisting the urge to climb into Harry’s lap and let him knot him full.</p><p>“Haz,” Louis whispers, throat tight, aching and empty, because he didn’t mean it but he kind of did.</p><p>Harry sighs into the dip of Louis’ throat, nudging a knee between Louis’ thighs and spreading them apart. “Two years you could have told me this information in and you choose now,” he says, something a touch disbelieving in his tone. “In the middle of what might be the stupidest fight we’ve ever had.”</p><p>Well, when he puts it like that it sounds like something other than what Louis had been intending it to be. Something that Louis doesn’t have an answer for.</p><p>“I missed you so much,” Louis says, closing his eyes and curling his fingers against Harry’s shoulderblades. “It hurt like a missing limb, missing you that week. I wanted to get on a plane, get to you so you could make it better. It was pretty much all I could think about.”</p><p>Harry’s mouth is still pressed against his throat, so Louis can feel it when his breath hitches, just for a second. “Baby,” he says, pulling back, framing Louis’ face with his hands, “I hate to break it to you, but this is a conversation.”</p><p>“It’s not,” Louis says. “I’m just telling you what happened.”</p><p>It’s not a conversation. It’s something Louis has been saving to throw in Harry’s face all these years. That’s all it is.</p><p>Harry’s hard. Louis can smell his arousal, and it gets to him, seeps into his pores. He wants his alpha, and at the end of the day that’s all that matters. Louis has never been incapable of getting his alpha to want him back. He arches his back, bares his throat, and sinks down, letting Harry take most of his weight. Trusting that Harry won’t let him fall.</p><p>“No,” Harry says, taking Louis’ weight easily, shifting just a bit. “You’re telling me that I hurt you and you’ve been keeping it in for years now. That’s more than just telling me what happened.”</p><p>This is not what Louis expected from this at all, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.<br/>Some of that indecision must be showing on Louis’ face. Harry sighs, shifts a bit more, and slides his hands around the back of Louis’ neck. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I wish I could have been there for you.”</p><p>He says it so earnestly, so honestly. Louis’ eyes burn, and before he can close them a tear slips out.</p><p>“Don’t,” Louis says, squeezing his eyes closed. “I hate you.”</p><p>It’s not a big deal. It’s <i>not<i>. Harry didn’t even know, couldn’t have known, and Louis dealt with it by himself. Even if Harry had have been there nothing would have changed - there was a plan, and Harry fucking him through a heat was not part of it. Louis wouldn’t have let it happen if Harry had have been there.</i></i></p><p>
  <i>None of that changes the way Louis <i>feels</i> right now.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I’m sorry,” Harry repeats, kissing Louis gently, gingerly. “If I could have been there for you, I would have.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I know,” Louis snaps, wiggling a bit in Harry’s hold. He wants to get away but he doesn’t want to get away. “How many heats have you been there for since that one? Every single one. I know you would have been there if you had have known.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Harry kisses him again. “It’s okay to be upset,” he says. “Baby, it’s okay to be upset.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Fuck him, Louis <i>knows</i>, alright? He knows. “If you keep telling me it’s okay I’m actually going to get mad at you for real.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He even kind of means it.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Alright,” Harry says, pulling back again. “How about I show you, then?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He’s got the sex glint in his eyes, but even if he didn’t Louis would know what he’s talking about.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Fine,” Louis says. “But you have to make me come until I can’t anymore.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Deal,” Harry says.</i>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <i>Later, after Harry has followed through on his end of the deal, he fits himself against Louis’ back and tells him all the ways he’s sorry and all the ways he loves him. Louis allows it, but only because he’s too exhausted to run away.</i>
</p><hr/><p>
  <i>For the most part, when they have sex Harry will always prefer to knot in Louis’ arse - it’s a deep, primal instinct to seed his omega, fill him with come and then stay there until there’s a good chance that it’s taken. A biological urge that Harry’s never been good at repressing.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>That being said, there’s something undeniably satisfying about this, too, the image of Louis lying boneless and easily malleable on the bed underneath him, covered in Harry’s come from his belly all the way up to his throat, streaky and drying even though Harry hasn’t quite finished, mixing with his own come, impossible to determine whose is whose.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Louis is finished, eyelashes resting against his cheeks and breathing mostly evenly as Harry finishes up, so limp that Harry has to hold Louis’ fingers around his knot so they don’t slip off.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“So good for me, baby,” Harry murmurs, dribbling out a few last strands of come before his knot goes down. Louis hums something in response, lips barely parted, probably nearly asleep and only responding to Harry’s tone of voice.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>God, Harry loves him. He lets Louis’ fingers slip off of his cock and down onto the mattress, then bends down over him to taste his mouth again, fucking his tongue into it slowly, softly. Louis’ tongue is clumsy and languid, but he presses back, fingers twitching against Harry’s forearm as if they want to be holding onto him but they can’t quite manage.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He’s making noise, low and throaty as Harry kisses him, the type of noises that mean he’s fucked out and he wants to sleep but he’d let Harry knot him one more time if Harry really wanted to.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Harry will always want to knot him one more time, but it can wait until after they’ve had a nice, long nap. For now, he runs two fingers through the mess of come on Louis’ belly, gathering it up, and presses the pads of his fingertips against Louis’ mouth, feeding it to him even as they keep kissing.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Good little omega for me, baby,” Harry says, cock throbbing reluctantly as Louis sucks them into his mouth, tongue lapping at the ridges of Harry’s fingers, cleaning them off. “Love you.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Love you,” Louis mumbles back, mouth still full of Harry’s tongue and Harry’s fingers, covered in Harry’s come and just. His. Harry’s.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>They’ve come so far in the past four years, and Harry can still barely believe that they’re here, but it’s all been worth it. Every single second of the pain and the confusion, wondering why Louis wouldn’t let them be together when that’s what they both wanted so clearly, it’s worth it. Because they’re here now and Harry doesn’t ever plan on letting go.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Even if he knows that the second Louis wakes up he’s going to chew Harry out for not getting a cloth to clean him up. Spoiled little omega. Harry takes such good care of him.</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Something In The World Today</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>D/s<br/>Subdrop<br/>Panic Attack</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At this point, it’s almost impossible to remember how this even started. Harry’s always been attuned to Louis, ever since the beginning, more than the other boys, and it used to make him feel a little guilty, back when he and Louis were all but wrapped up in each other.</p>
<p>Now, here, staring at the back of Louis’ head, it feels like this is just a seamless evolution of their relationship, like everything they’ve ever done, every word they’ve ever spoken to each other has been leading them to this.</p>
<p>It feels inevitable.</p>
<p>There’s a sound at the door. It’s not a knock, but Louis has twisted to look at it anyway, and Harry feels - </p>
<p>“Ignore it,” he says, keeping his hand on Louis’ arm. Part of him wants to shake it until he has Louis’ complete attention again, because that’s what Harry deserves, that’s what he strives for in these moments, but he doesn’t.</p>
<p>Just holds on.</p>
<p>“What if it’s Paul,” Louis says. He sounds scared, like he doesn’t want to be walked in on, and if this was four months ago Harry might think it’s because he doesn’t want anyone to know about this.</p>
<p>Everyone does know about this, though. Everyone has known about this pretty much since the day it started, and they’ve gotten a lot less careful about ensuring that they’re doing it in places they have absolutely no chance of being walked in on. So Louis isn’t scared about being seen, Louis is scared about being interrupted.</p>
<p>Harry’s chest aches. Louis has been stroppy and out of sorts for days now, and every time Harry tries to get through to him they’re interrupted - by a show, by an interview, by one of the boys, it doesn’t matter. They haven’t had time for just the two of them for days now and Louis is falling apart.</p>
<p>It’s Harry’s job to make sure that doesn’t happen, and he’s been failing at it lately.</p>
<p>“It’s not Paul,” Harry says, but he can’t even manage to convince himself of that, much less <br/>Louis. They both watch at the door knob starts turning. “It’s not Paul?”</p>
<p>It <i>is</i> Paul. “You’ve got five minutes to get your stuff together and get down to the bus,” he says. </p>
<p>Harry doesn’t let go of Louis’ arm. “Told you that it would be Paul,” Louis says, shaking Harry’s hand off and going to stand by the dresser, hands tucked into his pockets and shoulders slumped.</p>
<p>All Harry wants to do is hold him. That’s all, just hold him for fifteen solid minutes. That’s not too much to ask, is it?</p>
<p>Paul’s looking between the two of them. “If you’re not down in five minutes I’m giving the okay to leave without you,” he says, and apparently fifteen minutes is too much to ask. Harry doesn’t take his eyes off of Louis as Paul leaves, watching him start gathering up their stuff and shoving it into Harry’s bag, and thinks, <i>how much longer can this go on for</i>.</p>
<p>They need to find some time.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, baby,” Harry says, crossing the room to stand at Louis’ side, pressing his thumb to the corner of Louis’ mouth. Louis sags into him, body slumping, and Harry still has a hard time getting him to admit it out loud, when he really needs it, but it’s never been more obvious than it is right now. “We’ll figure out something, yeah?”</p>
<p>He means it, he really does, but all Louis does is bite at his thumb like he doesn’t quite believe him, and Harry can’t really blame him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They make it to the buses in ten minutes, not five, but Paul only gives them a look, doesn’t say anything. Harry makes sure that Louis gets onto the bus safely before he realizes that he’s left his wallet up in the hotel room and has to double back to get it, ignoring Paul’s exasperated look along the way, and by the time he makes it back the first bus has already left, the one with Louis and the boys on it.</p>
<p>Harry grits his teeth and boards the second one, telling himself that he’ll make sure they have time for just the two of them when they get to Atlanta, even if he has to stab himself in the foot <br/>to do it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It only takes an hour before Harry gets the call. He glances at the caller ID, sees it’s Zayn and almost ignores it entirely. He’s tired and upset and he wants to sleep, but more than that he wants to sleep with Louis in his arms, face pressed between Louis’ shoulderblades, breathing him in. </p>
<p>That’s what Harry wants. That’s <i>all</i> Harry wants.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Harry answers, sighing. He doesn’t even have a distraction on this bus - Lux is having a nap, Lou is off coordinating with Caroline, and everyone else is taking the time to relax.</p>
<p>“H,” Zayn says, and something about the tone of his voice has Harry sitting up, clutching at the phone. “Listen, don’t freak out, alright, but Lou’s having a breakdown.”</p>
<p>Harry grips the phone tighter, forgets how to breathe for a second. “He isn’t crying, not anymore,” Zayn continues, “but he’s not okay, either, and nothing we’re doing is making any difference. He needs you, mate.”</p>
<p>“I’m coming,” Harry says, shoving his feet back into his shoes blindly, already standing up, going to search for Paul. “Tell him I’m coming.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something in Harry’s face, or maybe his voice, convinces Paul that this is an emergency. It takes twenty minutes for the buses to find a place to stop so Harry can switch, and during that entire time all Harry can think is <i>please let him be okay</i>.</p>
<p>He fucked up. Harry knows he’s fucked up - he’s Louis’ dom and he’s not there for him right now, not there for Louis when he needs him. He has to be better at this, <i>do</i> better, because if he doesn’t he’s not sure he’ll be able to live with himself.</p>
<p>There’s so much material out there on D/s, and Harry has barely even made a dent in it. He needs to do better research, get better at anticipating Louis’ moods, his needs, what he’s thinking when he’s under. Harry just - he needs to be better.</p>
<p>He’s almost vibrating out of his skin by the time the buses finally pull to a stop, shooting off the second the door is opened, at a flat out run to get to Louis, to see what’s going on with his own two eyes, to make it better. Because he has to make it better, can’t stand the thought that he’s failed Louis.</p>
<p>Louis is curled up on the couch in the lounge, head on Liam’s lap, being petted, and he isn’t crying but the evidence of tears is still there on his face, bloodshot eyes, puffy cheeks. He looks miserable and sad, so fucking small and vulnerable, and Harry’s chest hurts.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Li,” Louis says, pushing himself up shakily, patting at Liam’s face, and Harry can’t, Harry doesn’t - </p>
<p>“What happened?” he asks, and he knows it’s too sharp, too loud when Louis flinches, curling back up small again, tucking himself into Liam’s side. He makes himself breathe, once, twice, three times, crossing the room and putting his hand on Louis’ jaw. Has to be touching him, needs to be touching him. “Alright, baby?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, just,” Louis says. Adds a shrug to the end of his statement like he thinks Harry will know what he means just from two words, two useless words.</p>
<p>Harry does. Harry wants to take him home. Suddenly, it’s all Harry wants, to take Louis home and make him better, keep him there until the world is filled with sunshine and rainbows, smiles and laughter, Louis shrieking at him and telling him to leave him alone while they play wrestle, Louis filling up the house with his bright personality.</p>
<p>They can’t go home, not yet.</p>
<p>“God, I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you,” Harry says. He wants to be strong for Louis, needs to be, but he’s never been able to lie to him either, never even really been able to keep things from him. It’s just not in Harry’s nature, same as it’s not in his nature to not try to make it better when something is wrong with Louis.</p>
<p>He drops to his knees so he can pull him into a hug, off the couch altogether. “Thought something was wrong.”</p>
<p>Knows even as he says it that something <i>is</i> wrong. Louis needs him and right now this is all Harry can do, hug him tight and make sure nothing bad happens to him. Feels Louis shrug against him, bringing that ache back to Harry’s chest, the one that demands fix him.</p>
<p>“You’re okay, though?” Harry checks. Means it physically - knows Louis isn’t entirely okay, not right now, not with the evidence of his tears still written all over his face. Harry would move Heaven and Earth to make sure Louis is okay, and when he can’t it practically kills him.</p>
<p>“I can make it through the night, if that’s what you’re asking,” Louis says, putting his cold hands up the back of Harry’s shirt, and Harry believes him, knows that Louis would lie about it but he believes him. Louis has been trying to be better about it lately, telling Harry the truth, and Harry’s gotten adept at reading between the lines. He can make it through the night because they really have no other choice, but Harry doesn’t plan on letting him go any time soon.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna stay with you,” Harry says, just in case Louis doesn’t already know. Tucks his fingers into the back of Louis’ knee, settles them on the ground more comfortably. He doesn’t plan on leaving this position for the foreseeable future. “You’ll tell me if you need something different before the morning, yeah?”</p>
<p>Louis nods into his chest. Harry exhales slowly, careful not to let it turn into a sigh - can’t have Louis thinking he’s sighing at him, can’t - and watches Liam trail his fingers through Louis’ hair gently.</p>
<p>“You’re gonna take care of him, right?” Liam asks. Harry hugs Louis tighter, brushes a kiss to the top of his head.</p>
<p>“Course I’m gonna take care of him, he’s my boy,” he says, and he can feel Louis glowing against him. It’s the truth and Harry intends to do just that, but -</p>
<p>He needs to be better.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Homesickness is never really a thing that plagues Harry a lot. He calls his mum twice a week without fail, Skypes with Gem and texts with Robin and his friends on a regular basis. On tour, they’re busy enough that Harry never really thinks about it for extended periods of time, is usually capable of shaking it off before it really gets too bad.</p>
<p>Louis, on the other hand, wears his homesickness like fireworks on a dark night, burning bright and hot for everyone to see. Louis is pretty much Harry’s definition of what homesickness is like, and it takes a pretty long time before Harry realizes what he’s feeling.</p>
<p>It starts off with a general crabbiness. Harry would be lying if he said that he’s the most upbeat person on the tour - no, he has his moments and he’s well aware of that. Him feeling crabby isn’t really anything new. It gets worse over the course of a few days, but Harry just brushes it off, thinking it must be the weather or not getting enough sun. Something like that.</p>
<p>He only realizes something’s wrong when he brushes Louis off. <i>Louis</i>. Harry can count on one hand the amount of times he’s brushed Louis off in his entire life, and they’ve only ever been while they’re fighting.</p>
<p>Two. The number is two.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Harry says, watching Louis’ retreating back, the middle finger he’s holding up over his shoulder as he storms away. He’s making a scene of it, literally stomping his feet, and Harry already knows that he should be going after him to apologize, except.</p>
<p>He’s allowed to have his moments too, right?</p>
<p>Right.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It all comes to a head about an hour after the show has finished. Louis is usually a bit of a menace after performing, all hopped up on adrenaline, but right now he’s being a downright monster.</p>
<p>In the span of an hour, he’s managed to soak all of their clean after-show clothes, get confetti glue all over Liam, annoy Paul into chasing him out of the green room three separate times, and tie Harry’s shoes together five times. </p>
<p><i>Five fucking times</i>.</p>
<p>All in the span of an hour. Eventually, Harry’s had enough. He grabs Louis by the back of his neck and all but drags him out of the room, all the way out into the parking lot and onto the bus. They’re alone, the boys still running wild in the venue. Harry doesn’t let go, pushing Louis all the way into the lounge at the back, and then down onto his knees.</p>
<p>“Do you even realize how much of a brat you are?” he asks conversationally, unable to tear his eyes away from the back of Louis’ head, hair still a little damp with sweat.</p>
<p>“I realize how much of a douche you are,” Louis responds, sassing Harry even though Harry’s literally got him on his knees with a hand gripping the back of his neck.</p>
<p>That feeling that burns bright in the pit of his stomach whenever they’re like this spreads, flames higher. Harry’s in the wrong with the way he’s been acting and he knows it, but that doesn’t matter when Louis is on his knees in front of him.</p>
<p>“Oh, baby,” Harry murmurs, dropping his voice into that register that makes Louis listen, whether he wants to or not, “You’re really trying to push me today, aren’t you.”</p>
<p>“That depends,” Louis says, twisting to look at Harry over his shoulder, causing Harry’s hand to fall off him in the process. “What are you gonna do about it?”</p>
<p>What is Harry going to do about it. Harry’s going to put him in that place where all he wants to do is whatever Harry tells him to, that’s what Harry is going to do. The actual specifics of that he’ll just make up along the way.</p>
<p>“Stand up,” he says firmly, stepping around Louis and walking over to the couch, sinks down onto it. Spreads his knees. “Come here.”</p>
<p>Louis takes his sweet time about it, but he does it, sinking down onto his knees in the space between Harry’s legs. Settles there right away, putting an arm up on Harry’s thigh and resting his head on it. He’s still flushed and exuberant from the show, and so fucking pretty that Harry can barely stand it.</p>
<p>Harry tangles a hand in Louis’ hair, tugs on it a little. “Sweetheart,” he says, watching the tilt of Louis’ mouth, the slow sweep of his eyelashes across his cheeks. “You’ve been a big brat today.”</p>
<p>All Louis does is lick his bottom lip, even slower than he’s blinking. “Wanted some attention, didn’t you,” Harry continues, the syrup in his voice making it hard to talk, hard to focus on anything that isn’t Louis in front of him. “Just wanted to be pushed around a bit, told what to do.”</p>
<p>Harry knows he’s not wrong, that it is at least part of why Louis has been acting like this, but suddenly, randomly, he realizes that it’s not the entire reason why.</p>
<p>No, Louis has been acting like this <i>for</i> Harry. Because he knows Harry and he knows that Harry needs a distraction, needs something to occupy his focus, and Louis is nothing if not excellent at hogging Harry’s attention.</p>
<p>Unintentionally, the grip Harry has in Louis’ hair tightens, just a bit. “Baby,” he says, pulling Louis’ head back so they’re making eye contact. “Aren’t you just the best, sweetest boy I could ever ask for.” He means every word of it, every syllable, heart practically bursting with all the love he’s got for Louis inside of it, and Harry has never tried to contain it, even back when they didn’t know what they were doing.</p>
<p>They definitely know what they’re doing now.</p>
<p>Louis swallows, the motion drawing Harry’s eyes. “Well,” he says, soft and sweet, “If there was ever anyone I wanted to be a good boy for it’s you, so.”</p>
<p>That happiness in Harry’s chest explodes, spilling out of him in ways he can’t contain, doesn’t want to contain. He brings his other hand around to cup the back of Louis’ neck, coaxes him up off his knees and into Harry’s lap. “You are a good boy for me,” he says, skimming his lips along the curve of Louis’ jaw. “You’re so good for me, baby, the best thing that could have ever happened to me.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Louis whispers, hopeful and vulnerable, and it’s not that he doesn’t <i>know</i>, because of course he knows, but he wants Harry to tell him.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Harry confirms, taking Louis’ wrists in his hands and pinning them together between their chests. “Can you hold these here for me?”</p>
<p>He barely waits for the gentle sweep of Louis’ nod before they’re kissing, slumping back against the couch and letting Louis curl into him, fingers twitching against Harry’s chest because he wants to touch, wants to move them. He doesn’t, just lets Harry suck on his bottom lip, kisses back slow and sweet, content to follow Harry’s lead in this. Spreads his thighs wider to fall around Harry’s hips more naturally, the weight of him comforting and intoxicating.</p>
<p>It doesn’t take long for Louis’ breath to go shaky, for his tongue to go clumsy. He would keep this up until Harry told him to stop, be so good that it’d be the only thing Harry would be able to say, and that thought has Harry wrapping his fingers back around Louis’ wrists, gripping them just tight enough for Louis to really feel it.</p>
<p>Keeps kissing him. Kisses him until Harry’s tongue feels thick in his mouth, until that fire in his belly has both gone quiet and burns brighter than ever before. This boy in his lap is his and he’s so good for Harry, and sometimes it feels like he’s all Harry needs.</p>
<p>Harry stops the kissing eventually, pulling off slow, pressing his mouth to Louis’ cheek, his jaw, his neck. Doesn’t let go of Louis’ wrists. For the first time, he notices the weight of his cock in his pants, trapped thick and hard from having his boy in his lap, from a little snogging.</p>
<p>Notices that Louis’ is the same.</p>
<p>“You’re so beautiful,” Harry says, hushed, squeezing Louis’ wrists. “I love you.”</p>
<p>“Love you,” Louis echoes. It’s partially just the thing he does when he’s still under, repeating some of Harry’s words back to him, Harry knows, but mostly it’s Louis returning the sentiment. He’ll tell Harry properly later, half a dozen times in a row, and right now this is more than enough.</p>
<p>“C’mon, baby,” Harry murmurs, letting go of Louis’ wrists with one last squeeze and tapping him behind the knee instead, gets him moving enough for Harry to get them lying down, Louis caught in the circle of Harry’s arms and nowhere he wants to go. Nowhere either of them want to go.</p>
<p>Harry’s cock is still hard, and so is Louis’. Maybe Harry will do something about that later, if the pressure starts to get unbearable, but for now this is more than enough. A lot of their play is sexual, especially now, but at the end of the day it’s deeper than that. It’s a connection so strong it can get a little overwhelming sometimes, a need to bend Louis to his will and have Louis relish in it, a need for the two of them to just be together, so close nothing can come between them. For now, this is all Harry wants, Louis in his arms and nothing they have to do for the next eight hours.</p>
<p>All the homesickness Harry had been feeling earlier has completely vanished.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Indestructible</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Hospitals<br/>Injuries<br/>PTSD<br/>Car Accident</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s day three and Louis hasn’t left Harry’s side except for when he’s been forced out. He still doesn’t understand exactly why he’s not waking up - can’t think about it without all the breath leaving his lungs, spots dancing in front of his eyes, panic clawing up the back of his spine, because what if Harry <i>never</i> wakes up? What if the last thing Harry said to him was <i>I’ll bring you a pair</i> with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle, talking about bringing Louis home two watermelon.</p>
<p>A few hours ago Liam had brought watermelon flavoured gum in and Louis had nearly thrown up. It had taken him an hour to stop shaking.</p>
<p>The doctors have said that talking might help. That it’s possible that Harry can hear them.</p>
<p>Louis hasn’t been able to bring himself to say a single word, so far. They just stick in his throat every time he tries, like he’s drowning in honey, suffocating and unable to breathe, much less talk.</p>
<p>Every time he closes his eyes he sees it, the truck plowing into the side of the car over and over again, hears himself screaming, falling as he tries to run, palms scraped and stinging and that’s all he can think about, the wounds that are just starting to close on his own hands, despite the fact that Harry’s lying in a hospital bed right in front of him, breathing tube stuffed down his throat and covered in bandages.</p>
<p>There’s a very real possibility that Harry might not wake up, and Louis doesn’t know how to deal with that. He stares at Harry’s still, prone form until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore, and then lays his head down on the bed, holding one of Harry’s hands between his, and doesn’t want to ever let go.</p>
<p>The words are still sticking in his throat, but he can’t stop thinking them. <i>Please don’t leave me. Please.</i></p>
<p>Just. Don’t die. Please don’t die.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“I almost lost you,” Louis whispers one night, long after the sun has gone down and most people have gone to sleep. Harry’s mostly asleep himself, limbs lax and trusting underneath Louis’, completely naked. It’s been a week since their reunion in the airport, and they’ve spent most of it having sex.</p>
<p>Louis can’t fall asleep tonight. Can’t get his brain to turn off, to stop thinking about the pain and horror they’ve been through the past couple of months, can’t stop re-living it.</p>
<p>Harry fumbles with one of Louis’ hands, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing a sleep-clumsy kiss to his palm. “I know.”</p>
<p>There’s a million other things he could say - <i>but you didn’t, it’s okay, try to stop thinking about it, I’m here now</i>, but he doesn’t say any of them, just breathes against Louis’ skin and watches him carefully.</p>
<p>Louis’ glad. He doesn’t need empty platitudes, doesn’t need to hear that everything will be fine. Just needs time and the sound of Harry’s breathing, slow and steady, in the bed next to him. Because it will be okay, he knows, even if it takes years to get to that place. It will be okay.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Always Come Back To You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Alcohol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The club Harry’s playing at is small and crowded, people rubbing elbows as they jostle each other for space. Louis takes a sip of his beer just as the lights go out, and listens as cheers go up as Harry walks out onto the stage, guitar in hand.</p>
<p>As always, Harry’s good. Louis isn’t surprised by that. Aside from a couple people knocking against Liam and sending him crashing against Louis’ side, no one really bothers them, too focused on the music.</p>
<p>It isn’t until about halfway through the set that Harry stops, setting his guitar on a stand and taking a long drink of water before returning to the mic to talk.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Harry starts, wrapping both hands around the mic and leaning into it. He talks for a minute, and Louis is honestly too busy drinking his beer to really tune in to what he’s saying. Right up until Harry says, “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s someone here tonight who’s very special to me.”</p>
<p>A ragged cheer goes up around the room. Harry nods sagely and continues, “Yeah. He’s the light of my life, the apple of my eye. My one true love, the only person I can see myself spending the rest of my life with. Mr. Liam Payne, everyone!”</p>
<p>On cue, the spotlight shines on Liam and Louis in the crowd. Louis rolls his eyes and gives Harry the finger, but he can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. Beside him, Liam hides his face against the table, shoulders shaking with laughter, and Harry continues with his set.</p>
<p>Louis is already planning his revenge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry hasn’t even changed out of his stage clothes, still damp with sweat. His hair is curling at the ends and he’s gross and smelly and he’s got Louis pinned up against a wall, kissing him deeply.</p>
<p>Louis lets it go on a little too long, until their hips are pushing together and Harry’s hands are filling themselves with Louis’ arse. They’re backstage in the middle of a hallway where anyone could walk by and see them, and they’re still doing this.</p>
<p>Oh well. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Louis manages eventually, pulling back the two inches he can. His lips feel swollen and tingly, plush.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Harry returns, voice that mix of raspy and turned on the way it always is when they snog after a show, squeezing his handfuls of flesh. Louis rolls his eyes and purses his mouth.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna tell you something,” Louis says, patting Harry’s chest. Harry makes a vague noise in response, watching Louis’ mouth so obviously it’s impossible to miss. “You aren’t getting any tonight.”</p>
<p>Harry blinks slowly. “What?”</p>
<p>“You’re not getting any,” Louis repeats calmly, pushing Harry back a couple of inches. “You think I’m just gonna <i>forgive</i> that little stunt you pulled up there? It’s like you don’t know me at all.”</p>
<p>“What?” Harry repeats, stupider this time. Louis pushes him back a few more inches.</p>
<p>“You come into my house on the day I was gonna let you get some,” Louis starts, making a noise that could be classified as a shriek as Harry grabs for him. Ducks under Harry’s gigantic arms and takes off down the hallway, dodging people as he makes for the exit, all too aware of Harry crashing along behind him.</p>
<p>Joke’s on him, though, because when Louis was copping a feel he was doing it with a handful of bright green paint. Harry’s about to burst out of his own show with green paint smeared all over his crotch. It’s gonna make a great pap shot.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Swim In The Smoke</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Pirates<br/>Kidnapping<br/>A/B/O Dynamics<br/>Alcohol<br/>Candlesticks<br/>Violence</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first few days had passed in what felt like a sea of fear. It was a strange type of fear, though, muted and dull, nothing what it felt like the day Louis had woken up to pirates standing over his bed and the screams of servants and guards alike down the hall. That fear had been paralyzing, gripping his entire body and making it so he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely even breathe. He’d gone easily, putting up no fuss, because somewhere in the castle he could hear the shrill cry of his sister’s voice, desperate and strange, and staring down the end of a blade he’d bargained for her life.</p>
<p>It took him all too long to realize that it had been a ploy, and that he had been the one they wanted all along.</p>
<p>It had been impossible to tell how much time he spent aboard that ship, lying on a cold, damp blanket and waiting for something to happen, waiting for his fate to be decided. By the time <i>The Sparrow</i> had happened across them, the fear had lessened, giving way to a kind of acceptance. Either he would escape or he wouldn’t, and until something changed there was nothing he could do to even try.</p>
<p>Looking out across the soft pink of the sky now, the gentle ripple of the water against the boat, Louis thinks that something has definitely changed. He can feel Harry’s eyes on him, can feel the heat of that gaze and knows with certainty that this man, this pirate captain, does not intend for it to feel so searing.</p>
<p>“It’s beautiful,” Louis says quietly, still gazing out across the sea, because this feels like a pivotal moment. An important one.</p>
<p>“It’s my favourite view in the world,” Harry says, only it doesn’t sound like he’s telling the entire truth.</p>
<p>He’s still looking at Louis’ face.</p>
<p>“It’s peaceful,” Louis says, still quiet, and watches the dip of Harry’s head out of the corner of his eye as he looks up towards the night sky, the long line of his throat unconsciously bared.</p>
<p>“Sometimes I come out here when the crew is being too rowdy,” Harry says, a tone of thoughtfulness in his voice Louis hadn’t been expecting. “Just to look at the sky, remind myself of where I am.”</p>
<p>The words sound as though he hasn’t spoken them aloud to anyone else in a very long time, perhaps even never. Not ripped out of him but freely given, the way one speaks to a trusted lover. The way an alpha would speak to his omega.</p>
<p>It hasn’t gone unnoticed, the gentleness of Harry’s hands even as he grips Louis tight, the slight break in his voice as he attempts to gain control over their situation, the distance he’s careful to put between their bodies. Louis feels a pull to him unlike that of anything he’s ever felt before, and looking at Harry now, lying flat on his back gazing up at the stars, he knows Harry feels it as well. Knows that as hard as they try to deny it that feeling will never fade, not as long as they inhabit the same space.</p>
<p>Louis thinks he might be okay with that.</p>
<p>It’s easy to move away from the railing and settle onto his knees beside Harry, leaning over him. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say, only knows that this moment is electric, like lightning illuminating the night sky.</p>
<p>He’s saved from having to say anything by the touch of Harry’s thumb against his cheek, following an invisible path towards his mouth. “You’re very pretty,” Harry murmurs.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Louis whispers, unable to stop himself from wetting his lips, body thrilling at the way Harry’s gaze follows the moment. Finds himself leaning across Harry further, elbow settling on the wood by his shoulder. “You smell like sweat.”</p>
<p>Harry reaches up to tuck a strand of Louis’ hair behind his ear, fingers lingering, taking liberties Louis hasn’t granted him. “Is that a bad thing?”</p>
<p>Except maybe he has, Louis thinks, because he could have put a stop to this before it even really began and he didn’t. Didn’t want to.</p>
<p>Still doesn’t want to.</p>
<p>Louis can feel himself flushing. “No.”</p>
<p>The scent of Harry is deep and rich, like a fine dark chocolate, cocoa taste lingering in the air between them. The look in his eyes says that he wants to pull Louis down and put their mouths together, let them drown in this feeling forever.</p>
<p>He doesn’t. Between one blink of the eye and the next, Harry’s standing a few feet away from where Louis is still kneeling, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s getting late.”</p>
<p><i>Aye</i>, Louis thinks, heady thrill still fluttering in his belly. <i>Tis</i>. And this man standing in front of him, this ruthless pirate captain, will never lay a hand on Louis without Louis’ permission. This man will never take something that Louis hasn’t explicitly given him. This man, alpha though he may be, will never try to bend Louis’ omega to his will.</p>
<p>“You know what I think?” Louis asks, standing slowly. “I think you’re a <i>gentleman</i>, Harry Styles.” He pats Harry’s chest once as he passes him, leaving him in the wind.</p>
<p>This man will buckle to the force of Louis’ will and no one’s but his, Louis is pretty sure. And suddenly Louis is determined to make that happen.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Louis can admit, even if it’s only to himself, that his plan isn’t exactly a well laid out one. No matter what else he is or what else he’s trying to be, he’s royalty at heart and there’s part of him that can’t shake that. When he wants something there’s a part of him that expects to just get it. He’s had to work for things before, things he’s really wanted, but nothing like this. He never thought that he’d finally find someone he could tolerate the thought of laying with, much less someone he actively <i>wants</i>, and finding that person only to have him resisting it?</p>
<p>It’s not something Louis expected to have to work around, so his plan is a little short-sighted. Harry agrees - reluctantly - to go after the gold, and finding it is the easy part. Convincing him that keeping Louis after that is the part Louis doesn’t think to plan for.</p>
<p>The second Louis realizes they’re heading back towards England, a surge of emotion flows through him, too complex to untangle, and he’s on his feet, standing in front of Harry before he thinks it through.</p>
<p>“Where are we going?” Louis demands. If Harry thinks Louis is going to roll over and let him run his life just because he’s an alpha and Louis’ stupid hormones are responding to him, he’s got another thing coming.</p>
<p>“England,” Harry says, staring out into the cool dark of the sea, refusing to meet Louis’ gaze. That’s fine.</p>
<p>Fuck that, that’s <i>not</i> fine. Louis wants this, and he’s going to have it. Harry’s stupid misguided sense of chivalry isn’t going to stop him.</p>
<p>“You said that if I got you the gold you would let me stay,” Louis says. He doesn’t keep his voice down, uncaring of whether the crew is listening to them or not. This is a fight that everyone must have already seen coming.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t look at him. Louis’ blood threatens to boil over in his veins. “I never said that.”</p>
<p>Semantics. That’s semantics, and they both know it. They had a <i>deal</i>.</p>
<p>Louis slaps his hand down between Harry’s on the helm, forcing Harry to finally look at him. “Were you fucking <i>lying</i> to me?”</p>
<p>“We have to take you home,” Harry snaps, frustration in every word. “It’s dangerous for you to stay here. I can’t <i>allow</i> it.”</p>
<p>He can’t allow it? He can’t allow it?</p>
<p>Fuck that. Louis does what he wants, and Harry is what he wants. It’s time for another tactic, one that’s more tried and true. Louis grabs Harry’s hand, pulling it off the helm long enough that he can slip between his arms. “I’m not leaving.”</p>
<p>Like he expected, Harry’s hand goes back to its place, trapping Louis between his arms, and every instinct Louis has wants him to tip his head back, bare his throat. That’s how much he trusts this one alpha, how much he trusts <i>Harry</i>. With his life, if necessary.</p>
<p>All his instincts are telling him to do it, so that’s what Louis does. He doesn’t ease up on his glare, but he doesn’t have to. He’s betting that exposing his throat like this will rock Harry off his balance.</p>
<p>“I won’t,” Harry starts, and Louis inches back against the helm, letting his body relax limb by limb, something deep in his core satisfied by the unconscious way Harry follows him, keeping the same distance between their bodies. “I can’t keep you from your family any longer. They must be worried about you.”</p>
<p>The urge Louis has to spread his thighs and climb Harry, take what he wants instead of waiting for Harry to give it to him, itches against the warm feeling uncurling in his belly. Captain Harry Styles, notorious pirate, and he wants to give Louis back to his people because he thinks that’s where Louis belongs, trying to ignore his own feelings on the matter.</p>
<p>Louis belongs here, for so many different reasons, and it’s only a matter of time before Harry realizes that. In the meantime, Louis is going to do everything in his power to hurry that along.</p>
<p>“I’ll write them a letter,” he says truthfully. “The only way you’re going to get me off this ship is by either abandoning me somewhere when we dock for supplies or dragging me off kicking and screaming when we reach England. This is where I want to be.”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t answer, unabashedly watching Louis, Louis’ face, his mouth, and Louis feels powerful and exposed at the same time. “It’s freedom,” he says, watching Harry watch him. “Isn’t that what you said? Freedom. The type of freedom I’d never be able to have at home.”</p>
<p>It’s a thought that still hurts deep in the center of his chest. Louis would never be able to have anything like this if he went back home, never be able to walk the deck of a ship completely free, never be able to make all the daily, uninhibited choices he’s been making for the past few weeks. Life is just a series of choices, after all, and this is the only place Louis has the freedom to make his own without his status as omega constantly hanging over him. Without having to care about society’s expectations of him.</p>
<p>“Don’t use my own words against me,” Harry says. Pleads. It’s about as far from a disagreement as Louis is going to get right now, and something tells him, the same something that tells him that Harry wants to do right by him, that the front Harry’s putting up is falling away piece by piece. </p>
<p>Louis doesn’t think it through when he says, “Please, alpha,” but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t mean it. It’s conniving and manipulative and Louis <i>means it</i>.</p>
<p>Harry looms over him, big and alpha in the dark of the night, and Louis’ heart is hammering in his chest but he doesn’t feel scared. He feels wanted, like he’s about to be devoured with every ragged inhale Harry takes, and he means every word of it.</p>
<p><i>Alpha</i>.</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Harry says, the edges of his voice curling into something deep and intense, curling Louis’ toes against the wood of the deck. Louis scents back, arching up against Harry’s chest, inhaling heat and chocolate, and part of him, most of him, wants to sink down onto his knees, right there on the open deck of Harry’s ship for his entire crew to see, to know how they belong together.</p>
<p>Louis keeps pushing. “I know where there’s another island, alpha.”</p>
<p>It’s not a lie. As close as they are right now, Harry would probably be able to smell it on him, the slight change in his scent, and Louis is going to tell him where it is, tempt him with gold and treasure and himself altogether. He can smell Harry’s temptation, how much he wants to give in, and it’ll only be another few seconds before he does, before he gives them both what they want so desperately.</p>
<p>Instead of pushing closer, instead of bowing his head to claim Louis’ mouth as his own, instead of laying his hands on Louis’ skin, Harry pulls back, and before Louis can even blink, has jumped over the side of the ship.</p>
<p>A scream bubbles its way up into Louis’ throat, one made of pure frustration. The only reason it doesn’t come out is years of etiquette lessons all but beaten into him by various tutors.</p>
<p>Louis takes a deep breath in, letting it out between his teeth. “I know where you live,” he says aloud, barely above a murmur. He knows where Harry lives, where Harry’s heart lies, and Louis is going to exploit that until he gets them both what they want.</p>
<p>After all, Harry may be a gentleman, but he’s also a pirate. He’s built for taking what he wants, and there’s no doubt in Louis’ mind that what he wants is Louis.</p>
<hr/>
<p>For weeks, Louis has been feeling the itch of arousal hovering underneath his skin. It’s always there, always present, always so much worse whenever Harry is within touching distance. Louis is used to being wanted - growing up an omega with royal blood left him mostly optionless, not undesired. And he’s wanted in return, but it’s never been anything like this. Never so all-encompassing, unrelenting. It makes it hard to breathe, sometimes, how much he wants Harry.</p>
<p>Most days, it’s bearable. Louis knows what he wants, and he’s going to get it. It’s really only a matter of time. There’s electricity between them, constantly sparking, and it’s inevitable that they’ll end up together. That’s what Louis wants, and he knows that’s what Harry wants. He’s going to make it happen, one way or another.</p>
<p>Today, though, Louis’ skin isn’t just itching with arousal. Louis’ skin is <i>burning</i> with it, running hot through his veins, distracting him from even pretending he’s going to do anything at all today. It almost feels like a heat, that’s how intense it is. It makes sense, if Louis really thinks about it. He spends most of his time surrounded by Harry’s scent, sleeps in the man’s bed, exposed and trusting, and it’s hard to get more intimate than that. Honestly, Louis doesn’t know how Harry hasn’t cracked yet.</p>
<p>The point is, lying here on a nest of blankets in Harry’s cabin, the dark chocolate scent of him invading Louis’ senses, only weak light filtering into the room, noise of the crew out on the deck so faint Louis can actually ignore it for once, he’s so turned on it’s all he can think about. He’s been aboard this ship for weeks now, and in that time there’s only been a handful of opportunities to pleasure himself. Harry’s always just around the corner, always watching, always trying to make sure Louis is <i>safe</i>, and that’s normally a good thing. Serves to help Louis get what he wants.</p>
<p>Right now, Harry is - somewhere. He’s not in the room with Louis, hasn’t been for hours, and Louis can’t hear his voice filtering through the noise. It’s as private as it’s ever been, and the arousal bleeding through Louis’ veins isn’t going to go away on its own. And if Harry is close enough to tell, well, that’s his problem, isn’t it? Louis is sick and tired of playing demure, submissive omega. That’s <i>not</i> what he is.</p>
<p>Mind set, Louis rids himself of his clothes, taking care to fold them into neat piles. Finding clothes is hard on a pirate ship, and unless Louis wants to walk around in Harry’s all the time he has to take care of his own. Maybe if he gets desperate enough, that will happen, but for now he takes care of his clothes. Once naked, he lies back and strokes himself, long, lingering strokes, head tipped back and eyes closed.</p>
<p>It doesn’t take more than a few minutes before Louis realizes that it’s not quite doing it. His eyes open on their own accord, and with the way his head is turned the first thing his eyes land on is a candle, sitting on the desk in its holder.</p>
<p>It’s as good as anything. Louis is already damp, can feel his own arousal attempting to seep out of him, and he knows if he doesn’t do something about it soon it’s going to drive him crazy. All he has to do is get up onto his knees and stretch across the floor, and then the candlestick is in his hand. Louis lies back down, knee crooked, and doesn’t waste anymore time. He’s already slick enough that the candle slides in easily, and right away it feels so much better.</p>
<p>Louis breathes out heavily, sweat beading on his collarbones, his chest. He can smell the scent of his own slick, but more than that he can smell Harry. It gives a sense of what they would smell like together, deeply entwined, and Louis’ cock weeps a little, fucking the candle deeper inside of himself, and just when everything is starting to get that hazy feel around the edges, Harry’s voice cuts directly through him.</p>
<p>“What are you doing.”</p>
<p>As though he can’t see every inch of what Louis is doing right now. Louis keeps going, pushing the candle inside again, clenching up around it, and considers ignoring him altogether.</p>
<p>Then he thinks that there’s no way he’s going to pretend to be apologetic for this, pretend to be apologetic for being a sexual human being with needs, and opens his eyes. “Gotta make myself feel good somehow, if you won’t,” he says, all too aware that it’s not nearly as sharp as he means it to be.</p>
<p>“You can’t,” Harry objects, coming closer, looming over Louis all broad-shouldered and alpha, so attractive despite the low light.</p>
<p>Fury builds in Louis’ gut. “I can’t get myself off?” Louis demands, forgetting about the candle for the moment. “I can bloody well touch myself whenever I want and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”</p>
<p>Nothing Harry <i>will</i> do to stop him, anyway. Louis has all but thrown himself at Harry, and the most Harry has ever done is steal a few hungry kisses. He may talk the talk, but he doesn’t walk the walk. For a pirate, Harry is probably the truest gentleman Louis has ever met.</p>
<p>“You can’t fuck yourself with a bloody <i>candlestick</i>,” Harry hisses, and Louis’ cock jerks at the way Harry’s fingers curl into his fists. He’s looking, gazing at every inch of Louis’ body, and it’s not the first time he’s seen Louis naked but it is the first time he’s really looked like this, hasn’t torn his gaze away, and Louis revels in the feeling. It feels like he’s won something.</p>
<p>Louis moves the candlestick again, fucking himself with it. “I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he tells Harry. “You know why? Because you’re not my alpha.”</p>
<p>As soon as he says it, Louis knows the words are going to push Harry into doing something. Something drastic, something he can’t take back, and Louis <i>wants it</i>. So badly. Whatever it is, Louis wants it.</p>
<p>“You’re a virgin,” Harry says. He kneels down on the floor beside the bed and grips Louis’ wrist, holding him still.</p>
<p>“I <i>was</i> a virgin,” Louis says, matching Harry’s tone. No matter what his body is telling him, this man isn’t actually his alpha and Louis doesn’t have to listen to him. Definitely doesn’t have to do what he says.</p>
<p>“You telling me you went out and got yourself fucked, baby?” Harry asks, grip tightening on Louis’ wrist just a smidgen. “Because you can put this candlestick up your arse as much as you want and it’s still not going to be even remotely like the real thing.”</p>
<p>Jealousy. It’s jealousy, that strange note possessing Harry’s voice. Heat throbs low in Louis’ belly, loosening his fingers around the candle. Turns out he’s so much more likely to give in to what Harry wants when he’s not trying to pretend he doesn’t have feelings for Louis.</p>
<p>“What would you say if I said yes?” Louis asks. It feels like the only question that matters right now.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t hesitate. “I would say that you’re lying,” he says, pulling Louis’ arm up over his head, holding him in place. “Because you are. You’re lying, baby, aren’t you.”</p>
<p>Here he is, caught under Harry, under this big, strong, powerful alpha, and Louis is the one holding all the power. All it would take to get Harry to let him go is a single word, and that only makes Louis want him more. It’s pretty much the entire reason Louis started wanting him in the first place.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Louis admits.</p>
<p>“I know,” Harry says, leaning down, putting an elbow against the floor, even more effective at pinning Louis in place now. They’re touching in a few spots - their chests, their arms, and heat is bleeding off both of them. “Because you want it to be me, baby, don’t you. You want me to be the one who takes you the very first time, you want to give it up to me.”</p>
<p>He’s not wrong. Louis wants it to be Harry, has wanted it to be Harry pretty much since he first laid eyes on him, and he’s almost about to have it. He’s not going to let Harry back out now if his only reason is because he thinks Louis deserves better.</p>
<p>Louis moves, wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist and rolling them over. He lands on top, and he’s well aware that the only reason it happens is because Harry’s not expecting it.</p>
<p>“You want it too,” Louis says, grinding down against Harry’s hips. “The thought of another alpha putting their dick inside of me makes you fucking <i>crazy</i>, Harry.”</p>
<p>It does. Louis knows it does. It has to. The way Harry touches him without meaning to, the way Harry <i>looks</i> at him, it can all only mean one thing. That he wants Louis just as much as Louis wants him. Louis has never doubted that.</p>
<p>For a few seconds, Harry just looks up at him. They’re both flushed with heat, and Louis is still naked, sitting astride Harry’s hips, and he feels wanted. Right now, he feels the depth of Harry’s want all around him, underneath him. And then Harry pushes up, crushing them together, and kisses him. Louis kisses back, threading his hands through Harry’s hair, unable and unwilling to let him go.</p>
<p>That faint chocolate scent that always permeates the air around Harry deepens, turns molten. Louis can almost taste it on Harry’s tongue, the rich, headiness of it, and it makes him want to get even closer. He squirms a little, shuddering at the unmistakable feeling of Harry’s cock under his arse, and murmurs, “Please,” as soft as he can manage it.</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t do that to me,” Harry says, caught up in a thought Louis has already passed. “Would you, baby? You wouldn’t break my heart like that.”</p>
<p>He’s got a hand on the back of Louis’ neck, holding him there. Louis doesn’t want to go anywhere, and he proves it by moving again, arching against Harry and pushing a hand down the back of Harry’s shirt, feeling his way along the planes of Harry’s back.</p>
<p>“Good boy,” Harry says, kissing Louis again, and if it was anyone else, if anyone else had <i>dared</i> to say something like that to him with such surety in their tone, Louis would have slapped them. That piece of him, though, that unfailingly omega piece of him, that part just revels in it. He’s doing something right, if he gets his alpha to say those words. “Alright, sweetheart?”</p>
<p>Yes, Louis is alright. There is one way he could be better, though. “I’ll be alright once you finally fucking <i>fuck</i> me,” he says, wiggling a little. If Harry gets up right now, leaves him like this, Louis will probably fall to pieces. It won’t be a pretty sight.</p>
<p>Harry flips them back over, gets Louis back underneath him, and they’re kissing again like Harry can read his mind. It’s a wet, open kiss, deep and hot. Harry kisses with the same kind of single-minded determination he has when he fights, and it’s not the first time Louis has noticed that but he feels it again now, in the strength hiding in Harry’s hands on Louis’ hips. He could use those hands to squeeze the life out of Louis’ neck, but that’s a thought that would never even cross his mind.</p>
<p>“You taste like wine,” Harry tells him, rubbing two fingers across Louis’ jaw, and Louis can’t help but smile up at him. Naked omega underneath him and he gets distracted by the taste of wine on Louis’ tongue. Harry doesn’t often seem like the pirate captain he is when it’s just the two of them inside these four walls, but then he’ll go and make comments like that and remind Louis how many choices he has now. The infinite number of choices that he never had before.</p>
<p>“Stole some from your private stash.”</p>
<p>“How much did you drink, baby?” Harry asks, caressing Louis’ bare belly, so close to his cock that Louis has to repress a shiver, hard and wanting. Hurrying Harry hasn’t worked so far, and Louis doesn’t think it’s going to now, no matter how badly he wants to come.</p>
<p>For a split second, Louis wonders what Harry would do if he said anything more than a glass or two. What it would look like for Harry to peel himself away, put Louis to bed without bedding him, the naked desire that he wouldn’t be able to stop from showing on his face. Because there’s no doubt that’s what Harry would do - he would tuck Louis in, maybe kiss him some more, reluctant to stop, but there would be no sex.</p>
<p>“Only a few sips,” Louis says, biting at his bottom lip.</p>
<p>“And would you tell me if it was more than that?” Harry asks. His hand slides lower on Louis’ belly, edging closer to touching his cock.</p>
<p>There’s really only one answer to that. “I could never lie to you,” he says, covering Harry’s hand with his own, resisting the urge to push it down lower. Let Harry think that he’s in charge for now.</p>
<p>“Never, huh,” Harry says, hiding his smile against Louis’ jaw. Warmth blossoms in Louis’ stomach, a kind that has nothing to do with arousal. There’s never been anyone in Louis’ life he trusts so much, so implicitly, so without fail. He thinks Harry would try to get him the moon if he were to ask for it.</p>
<p>“Never,” Louis says. It sounds like a promise, even to him.</p>
<p>“You love lying to me,” Harry says, slipping his hand out from under Louis’ and curling it around his cock, grip firm and hot as he starts to stroke. Louis’ mouth falls open, a whine building in the back of his throat. “You love keeping me on my toes, making me chase you down for the truth.”</p>
<p>Well. Louis doesn’t lie about the important things, anyway. A little white lie here and there never hurt anyone, after all. Especially not when it puts that look on Harry’s face, the half-admiring, half-lustful one.</p>
<p>“You love chasing me for it,” Louis says, gripping Harry’s shoulders tight, distracted by the sensation of Harry’s hand on his cock, not so much moving anymore as simply holding.</p>
<p>Harry leans back in for another kiss, one Louis gives up willingly. Kissing Harry has always been incredible and distracting - that’s why Louis pushes him so often - but it’s not so distracting that he doesn’t feel the slide of Harry’s hand down his back, clearly heading somewhere.</p>
<p>Louis’ mouth gets wet before it ever gets there. A flash of nerves skitter through his chest, soothingly cool. This is what he wants, the person he wants his first time, his every time to be with, and he’s wet enough that it shows, but the brief flash of anxiety is almost welcome. He knows he’s making the right decision, with the right person, and yet it’s still undeniably nerve-wracking. If it didn’t feel like that, Louis wouldn’t be so sure.</p>
<p>Two fingers slip between Louis’ arsecheeks, rubbing lightly at his hole. If Louis was going to back out, this would be his chance, and Harry is moving slow enough that it can’t be anything other than intentional. </p>
<p>Louis has been sure that this is what he wants for a long time. He’s not going to back out now, or ever. Slowly, one of Harry’s fingers sinks inside, replacing the emptiness with something so much better. Something so much better than anything Louis has ever felt.</p>
<p>“You’re so naughty,” Harry says, and it feels like praise. “What were you going to do if I didn’t come in here, huh? Fucking yourself with one of my candlesticks like they’re yours to take.”</p>
<p>They are Louis’. Everything that belongs to Harry also belongs to Louis, and not because Louis is royalty and technically everything Harry’s stolen has belonged to the British kingdom. No, they’re Louis’ because if Louis asked for them, Harry wouldn’t hesitate to give them to him, like he wouldn’t hesitate to give Louis everything else. Everything he owns. Their souls are intertwined, and Louis wouldn’t give that up without a fight. </p>
<p>“I would have made myself come and let you smell me all over your sheets,” Louis says. His fingers are tangled in Harry’s hair, and he doesn’t remember putting them there.</p>
<p>“I already smell you all over my sheets,” Harry says, taking his finger out. Louis makes a noise, protesting. “You’re not good at pretending like you haven’t been sleeping in my bed whenever I’m not here.”</p>
<p>He thinks Louis <i>pretends</i> not to have been sleeping in this bed? “I sleep in your bed when you <i>are</i> here,” Louis says. “And you let me because you’re a <i>gentleman</i>.”</p>
<p>Only a gentleman would let an omega they’re attracted to, mostly in love with, sleep barely clothed in his bed without making a move. It’s the main source of Louis’ frustration.</p>
<p>Suddenly, Harry’s holding up the candle. “This was never going to satisfy you. It was never going to feel the same as a real cock does, as a real knot does.”</p>
<p>He sounds frustrated as he says it, like he doesn’t quite want to be but can’t help himself. Like he’s well aware of how irrational it is to be upset that Louis was using an inanimate object to get himself off, especially when he’s the entire reason Louis had to resort to such drastic measures.</p>
<p>What Louis says now will be the thing that makes a difference. He breathes out and speaks the truth. “I wouldn’t know. Are you going to show me?”</p>
<p>Harry looks at him, eyes glittering in the dark, piercing Louis’ soul. “Aye,” he murmurs, and pushes the candlestick back inside Louis’ hole.</p>
<p>Louis’ head falls back against the pillows, limbs going lax. He can barely manage to hold on, fingers slipping through the silk of Harry’s hair. It feels different than when Louis was doing it to himself, so much more full, so much deeper, even though it’s the exact same instrument Louis was using. He can feel Harry watching the candlestick disappear and Louis’ face in equal turns, and the air all around them feels thick and muggy, making it hard to draw a breath.</p>
<p>“Does it feel good?” Harry asks, and maybe he means for it to be gentle and concerned, honestly questioning. It comes out demanding, alpha-y, and Louis can’t stop the noise he makes. Harry bends his head, must’ve taken that as an answer, mouthing at Louis’ collarbone.</p>
<p>Louis is an omega, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever not want to answer his alpha at moments like this. “Yes. Feels good.”</p>
<p>Feels so good. Like he’s dreaming, that’s how good it feels.</p>
<p>“You’re so gorgeous,” Harry whispers. Louis flushes, pleased, lips parting at the feel of Harry’s mouth on his belly, sucking marks into it. “Look like a sweet little omega from a distance but you aren’t, are you? There’s nothing sweet about you.”</p>
<p>“m always sweet,” Louis murmurs, shifting against the blankets, trying to catch Harry between his thighs in a way he’ll never be able to get out of. So he’ll always be here, on top of Louis like this, licking at him, making him feel good.</p>
<p>“Sweetest little omega I’ve ever known,” Harry murmurs back, and his tongue touches Louis’ cock for the first time.</p>
<p>Moisture collects behind Louis’ closed eyelids, tears from how overwhelmingly good he feels. He reaches out blindly, fingers leaving Harry’s hair to touch his face. “Only one who’s ever gotten your attention for more than five minutes.”</p>
<p>Harry sucks the head of Louis’ cock into his mouth, and Louis practically sees stars. If this is what sex feels like he has no idea how everyone isn’t having it all the time. He can’t stop squirming, trying to get Harry to take more in, and the candlestick shifts inside him, pressing against a spot that fills him with electricity, and Louis wants to come.</p>
<p>“Feels so good,” he tells Harry, and is rewarded by Harry’s tongue rubbing firm against his shaft, cock pulsing in Harry’s mouth.</p>
<p>Then Harry pulls off, and Louis makes a greedy, helpless noise, even as Harry breathes against him, not pulling away. “You gonna come?”</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t have it in him to say anything but the complete truth right now, not to his alpha. “Yes, Harry, wanna come.”</p>
<p>All it would take is a little bit more, a hint of wetness, and Louis wouldn’t be able to stop himself.</p>
<p>“Alright, baby,” Harry says, touching Louis’ hip gently before sucking Louis’ cock back into his mouth, hot and wet and tight. Louis is making noise, he knows, enough that the entire crew will probably be able to hear him, and he doesn’t care. This is everything. This is his alpha, taking care of him, making him feel good, and in a few seconds Louis is going to make him feel good too. He promises.</p>
<p>Harry sucks a little harder, humming around Louis’ cock, and Louis comes, eyes closed tight, mouth dropped open on a single word that doesn’t quite escape his throat.</p>
<p><i>Alpha</i>.</p>
<p>The world is hazy around the edges, light filtering through his closed eyelids golden and bright. Everything feels so good, so right. Harry’s so warm against him, big and comfortable. Louis reaches for him, blinking back into focus.</p>
<p>“Never seen anyone as pretty as you,” Harry says, wonderment in his voice. “My little royal omega brat, aren’t you.”</p>
<p>The warmth in Louis’ belly blooms a little brighter. <i>His omega</i>. That’s what Louis is. Harry’s omega.</p>
<p>“Yes, yours,” Louis murmurs, thumbnail catching on a vein in Harry’s right arm, following it down towards his wrist.</p>
<p>“Turn over, baby,” Harry asks, both hands helping Louis do so, probably knowing he wouldn’t be able to get there on his own right now, too full of happiness, of pleasure.</p>
<p>Louis ends up on his belly, stretched out and pliant. “What’re we doing?” He’d let Harry do anything he wants, he thinks. Doesn’t matter what.</p>
<p>Harry touches Louis’ mouth. Louis lets his lips part, trying to draw them in without moving. There’s come drying on his belly, wet and sticky, and Louis doesn’t mind. His alpha did that to him.</p>
<p>“I’m just looking,” Harry says, but his actions betray his words, thumb settling between Louis’ cheeks and pulling him apart at the center, exposing him to Harry’s hungry gaze. “Got yourself a pretty little hole, princeling.”</p>
<p>The words send a sharp stab of desire through Louis’ gut. “Stop calling me that,” he says, squirming, but he thinks he wouldn’t mind if Harry kept calling him that for the rest of their lives.</p>
<p>A kiss lands against Louis’ back, warm and soft. “You are,” Harry says, pressing against the end of the candle, still tucked up safe inside Louis’ hole. “You’re my little prince. My liege.”</p>
<p>The noise that escapes Louis’ throat is wretched, awful. <i>My liege</i>. It’s a sign of respect, a title Louis had done nothing to earn back in England, and hearing it fall out of Harry’s mouth, a man with no loyalty to the kingdom, it sounds like <i>forever</i>. </p>
<p>Louis wants it to mean <i>forever</i>.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Louis says, and he means <i>fuck me</i>. Harry kisses him again, at the base of his spine, fucking him languidly with the candle for a few more seconds before pulling it out carefully.</p>
<p>“Shh, little one,” Harry says, distracted, thumb stroking across Louis’ empty hole, teasing. Louis moans, broken, eyes fixed on Harry over his shoulder, but Harry’s gazing at his arse, watching every movement his thumb makes as though he’s transfixed.</p>
<p>He watches Harry move, slow, so slow Louis knows what’s coming, belly cramping up with how much he wants it, wants Harry’s mouth on him, his most vulnerable place where only Harry has ever touched, and Louis still gasps for air the second he gets it. He can’t stop making noise, can’t stop himself from moaning long and loud, Harry’s tongue flicking against him slowly, lazily, tasting Louis’ wetness, tasting how ready Louis is, how much he wants this.</p>
<p>Harry’s making noise too, low, hungry sounds that echo Louis’, both hands on Louis’ arsecheeks, keeping him open for it, tongue flicking and wiggling and then slipping inside. “Harry,” Louis says, biting at his own knuckles, his wrist, anything, about to come again, “please, Harry, <i>please</i> - ”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t respond, keeps going, licking into Louis deeper, wetter, and Louis wasn’t asking for permission, exactly, but that’s what it must be, and he comes again, pressing his face into the pillow so hard he nearly blacks out.</p>
<p>He can’t quite manage to catch his breath again, after, even after he turns his face away from the pillow. Harry keeps licking into him, sending shockwaves of pleasure up Louis’ spine, and doesn’t show any signs of stopping.</p>
<p>“Wanna fuck,” he tells Harry. Harry’s tongue feels so good inside of him, wet and moving, and Louis can’t stop thinking about what it will feel like when he’s got Harry’s cock inside of him instead. His knot.</p>
<p>Harry’s slow as he withdraws his tongue, licking at every part of Louis he can reach as he goes. “We are fucking, baby,” he says, and like he’s trying to prove it, wiggles the tip of a finger back inside.</p>
<p>Again, Louis can’t withhold his noise, a little hurt, a lot ragged. He wants Harry’s cock inside him now, before he’s too far gone to be able to appreciate it properly. “Want your cock. Want it inside me.”</p>
<p>If he begs enough, Harry won’t be able to say no. Louis is sure of it.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Harry asks, low. “You want it?”</p>
<p>Yes. Louis wants it. Badly.</p>
<p>“Please, Harry,” he says, putting his hand back against Harry’s face, willing him to do it, give Louis what he wants, what he <i>needs</i> - </p>
<p>A second finger slides in beside the first. Louis gasps up at the roof, belly trembling, cock hard, muscles fluttering around Harry’s fingers. The stretch is unbearable, unbelievable, so good Louis already wants more, already wants to be full of Harry’s fingers all the time, and that’s before Harry’s tongue comes back to join them.</p>
<p>All Louis can do is make noise, moaning, gasping, pleading, begging for more, for Harry to fuck him, please, “Please, please, please, please, please - ”</p>
<p>“Just one more, sweetheart,” Harry says, tongue abruptly leaving Louis’ hole, hovering over him on one elbow now. “You can give me one more, can’t you? One more before I knot you.”</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t know. He closes his eyes to think about it, can’t think straight with Harry watching him like that, pulling his knee up to ease some of the pressure on his cock. His eyelashes stick together, wet, and he doesn’t quite know why.</p>
<p>“Baby?” Harry says, low, concerned, and Louis thinks - yes. He can.</p>
<p>“Promise,” Louis says, letting his eyes drift open, watching Harry watch him.</p>
<p>“I promise,” Harry says immediately, no time to think about it. “Just one more orgasm and then I’ll fuck you. Can you do that for me? Give me one more?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Louis says, rolling onto his back, ending up with his thigh on Harry’s shoulder. “Can.”</p>
<p>He can. His alpha will help him. Louis knows that. Harry goes back to fingering him, fully intent on his task, on Louis’ every move, every hitch of his breath, and with all that attention on him it’s easy for Louis to come again, only a few minutes later.</p>
<p>In the midst of it, Harry gives him a third finger. Louis’ body isn’t reacting to his brain anymore, too overwhelmed by pleasure, and it’s all he can do to ride out his orgasm, as full of Harry as he’s ever been.</p>
<p>“Look at that,” Harry says eventually, voice gritty with desire as he takes his fingers away, leaving Louis so empty inside. “Can’t believe how amazing you are, baby.”</p>
<p>They’re kissing again, slow and sweet like they have all the time in the world. Louis pushes his tongue into Harry’s mouth, fingers curled around the edges of Harry’s hands, breathless at the feeling of Harry’s cock against his belly, bare. </p>
<p>“Now,” Louis says. Harry promised. “Want it now, Harry.”</p>
<p>“Yes, my love,” Harry says, fingers curled around Louis’ upper thigh as they lift it into place around his back, their bodies slotting into place like this is what they’ve been meant to be doing all along. They fit together perfectly, seamlessly, and if Louis had his wits about him he would feel validated by that.</p>
<p>Harry’s cock sinks into him a centimeter at a time, the push earth-shattering and slow, giving Louis a chance to adjust to the stretch. Louis is breathless, lungs unable to expand for a few long seconds, everything in his entire world centered around the feeling of Harry inside of him, big and thick, filling him up.</p>
<p>“Christ,” Harry breathes, arms under Louis’ back, pulling him close. Louis can’t move, can barely get enough air, electricity and elation singing through every cell of his body. It feels like everything he ever thought it would, and somehow more. All Louis can do is hold on, fingers laced behind Harry’s neck. He can’t put into words how good it feels. How <i>right</i> it feels.</p>
<p>Finally, Harry comes to a halt, cock all the way inside. “Alright?” he asks, free hand pushing Louis’ hair away from his face, stealing another deep kiss before Louis can answer.</p>
<p>Louis’ nod is slow and dazed. “Feels full.”</p>
<p>That’s the least of how it feels. Somehow, it’s also the most important.</p>
<p>“D’you like it?”</p>
<p>Louis thinks he might love it so much he’ll never want to do anything else. “Yeah,” he says, sighing, full, squirming. “Can you, like.”</p>
<p>He needs to know what it feels like when Harry moves. When he fucks Louis for real, cock inside Louis moving, pleasuring him, making him feel even better. Harry obliges, starting off slow and gentle, tiny little motions that aren’t anything close to what Louis was asking for. It still feels amazing, friction everywhere Louis needs it, and he makes a low noise, tipping his head back.</p>
<p>Like the noise has spurred him on, Harry starts moving faster, picking up the pace, and that feels even better, blood flushing Louis’ entire body. “You feel so good,” Harry says, pulling him up a little, and then he starts moving in earnest.</p>
<p>Whatever breath Louis had managed to catch goes flying out of his lungs. He cries out, thighs clamping around Harry’s hips, like a ragdoll in Harry’s arms, and comes again, not a hand on his cock.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t stop fucking him. It should hurt, probably, but it doesn’t, and Louis feels so good that he thinks his soul might float out of his body.</p>
<p>“Love you,” Louis says, arms around Harry’s neck, and he means every syllable of it. Moving is hard, so he doesn’t try, stroking his fingers through tangled strands of Harry’s hair. Everything is glowing. Louis’ entire world is glowing.</p>
<p>Harry’s barely moving anymore, knot swelling against Louis’ arse, trying to invade him. Louis sighs, happy, and tries to press down onto it, work it inside of himself.</p>
<p>“Shh, little one,” Harry murmurs, helping to rearrange Louis into a better position, make it easier to get Harry’s knot inside, so caring and tender even though he must want to come, get Louis’ insides all wet with it, so much of it that there will never be any doubt who Louis belongs to. They’ll smell like each other, more than they ever did before, and Louis wants it so badly he can practically taste it.</p>
<p>The noises coming out of Louis are savage, demanding. He won’t let Harry go until he’s spent, until he’s given Louis every last drop of come he has, smeared it into his skin, inside of him where it belongs, a secret for Louis to keep.</p>
<p>Harry’s talking, voice a low, soothing backdrop, knot growing inside of Louis, expanding, filling every inch of space there is inside him, and Louis can feel the moment it’s done. How it fits him just right.</p>
<p>Harry’s mouth is on his throat. Louis doesn’t even feel it until it starts to hurt, pleasure and pain becoming one. </p>
<p>“Feels so good,” Harry says, not letting go of his mouthful of flesh. He moves a little, knot rocking inside of Louis.</p>
<p>Satisfaction uncurls in Louis’ stomach, bone-deep. This is what he’s meant for. For his alpha to have, the knot inside of him tying them together, claiming. Marking.</p>
<p>It’s not over quite yet. There’s still more that Louis can have, has to have. “Want it,” he says, knowing it’s not an explanation but appealing to his alpha anyway. For his alpha to give it to him.</p>
<p>“I know, sweetheart, gonna give it to you,” Harry says, and the tight grip on Louis’ heart isn’t going to loosen until he gets it, but he feels a bit better regardless.</p>
<p>Harry starts to come. Hot, wet pulses of it that Louis can feel deep inside of him, trapped inside him with nowhere to go. That feeling of satisfaction turns into bliss, red-hot somehow.</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, please, Harry,” Louis murmurs, fingers tangling in Harry’s hair again, taking it all, everything his alpha has to give him, the connection between them undeniable now. No one will be able to take Harry from him now.</p>
<p>“So good to me,” Harry says, and yes, Louis is good. Good to his alpha and for his alpha, and that deserves a reward.</p>
<p>“Make me come,” Louis says. Wants to come on Harry’s knot before it has to leave him, remember the feeling of being full almost to bursting and wet with Harry’s come.</p>
<p>He thinks he won’t be able to go long without this feeling.</p>
<p>“Yes, my prince,” Harry agrees, kissing Louis again, and Louis thinks he would do anything to have Louis caught on his knot like this. Would do whatever Louis says.</p>
<p>Harry takes Louis’ cock in hand, stroking him firm and tight. Says, “So good for me, sweetheart, gonna come, aren’t you,” into Louis’ throat like he’s the one who wants it, and Louis does. Comes again for his alpha, because his alpha said so, and then again when his alpha keeps moving his hips.</p>
<p>The golden glow in the air is so bright Louis has to close his eyes against it. His limbs feel heavy, and he barely feels it when Harry rolls them over, settling with Louis on top of him. He’s not asleep, not quite, and he can still feel Harry inside of him.</p>
<p><i>Alpha</i>, he thinks.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Your Highness,” Commander Garrison says, sketching a bow in front of Louis. He’s not even trying to disguise the mocking tone he says the words in, as though Louis may technically be royalty but all that really matters is that he’s omega. “Your <i>paramour</i> keeps asking about you. Shall I tell him that you will be down to see him soon?”</p>
<p>Louis is sitting in Commander Garrison’s cabin. He’d had to give it up as soon as they had Louis on board, both because Louis outranks him as the first son to the King of England and because he’s the only omega on the ship. The design is tasteless, tactless, meant to show off wealth and power. Louis’ skin crawls in disgust - he doesn’t want to be here any more than he wants to face what lies ahead, which is to say, not at all.</p>
<p>“You’ll tell him nothing,” Louis says sharply, head held high, looking across the room at Garrison, looking <i>down</i> at him. The problem with meathead alpha-types is that they think of omegas as playthings, objects to be toyed with and used, and Garrison is all but the definition of meathead alpha. “He is a prisoner and he is to be treated as such.”</p>
<p><i>And you’ll treat me with the deference that is proper</i> goes unsaid. Louis conveys it in his look, his tone, and for the first time in a long time he clings to the customs he’s been running from for months. The titles and the rules and the order of things that are so different than <i>The Sparrow</i>.</p>
<p>An expression slides across Garrison’s face, brief and ugly, one that’s full of contempt. He doesn’t like being told what to do by an omega and he likes it even less that if he wants to keep his position he’ll be expected to obey those orders.</p>
<p>“Of course,” Garrison says, inclining his head and taking his leave. Louis doesn’t breathe properly for the next two minutes, and then, once he’s sure Garrison is truly gone, exhales in a loud rush.</p>
<p>It’s two weeks to England, and if Louis wants everyone to survive it this is the way it has to be. He has to hold himself together, refrain from going below deck and hitting Harry directly in the face, and go back to being that prim, proper royal omega. Louis does have power here, but it’s a different kind of power than the one he’d held on Harry’s ship, on their ship, one that’s just waiting for an excuse to slide out from under his feet.</p>
<p>The only way to get through this is to play by the rules. The old-fashioned, archaic rules that Louis hates.</p>
<p>It’s going to be a long two weeks, and at the end of it Louis will have to face his father and demand that he spare Harry’s life.</p>
<p>He’s not looking forward to it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Just Like The Wolf Before He Bites</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Werewolves<br/>Violent Urges</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s a little weird, getting used to being a werewolf. Logically, Harry knows he’s been a werewolf his entire life and the only thing’s that’s changed is he’s aware of it now, but he’s got all these fucked up instincts running through him. Demanding things that he has to actively work at suppressing. </p>
<p>Sometimes it’s harder than others. Right now, with the itch of the full moon underneath his skin, is one of those difficult times. Before he even knows what he’s doing, Harry finds himself standing between the bunks and the lounge, hands braced against the doorframe, toes curling against the linoleum. </p>
<p>Louis is asleep, lying on his stomach on one of the couches, right arm dangling off the side, fingers nearly brushing the floor. His phone is just below them, like it had slipped out of his grasp when he’d fallen asleep. He’s fully clothed, wearing jeans even, but he looks small and vulnerable there, like anyone could take advantage of him.</p>
<p>Harry drifts closer, fingers trailing across objects as he moves, kind of a tactile reminder of where he is. He’s laid claim to Louis in every way imaginable, as recently as eight hours ago, and yet his instincts are still demanding that he do something about this. It only takes a few seconds to reach the couch, knees bumping up against it. He stares down at Louis, nails slowly sharpening against his own palms, knows that his eyes have gone a little red at the edges. Something feral sits in the center of his chest, unwilling to be complicit for too much longer.</p>
<p>Through all of it, Louis sleeps. Trusting, as though he’s forgotten what Harry is capable of.<br/>Slowly, Harry reaches out and drags Louis shirt up with one finger, as far as it’ll go without resistance. It only bares half of his back, smooth skin put on display. Harry swallows, eyes fixed on it. He sinks to his knees beside the couch, limbs suddenly gone heavy. There’s a mark sitting high on Louis’ left shoulder, covered by his shirt, put there by Harry’s mouth that time eight hours ago. He likes being able to see Louis’ face when they have sex, likes to be able to kiss his mouth, bury his face in Louis’ throat, watch every expression that flickers across his face. When the moon gets full, though, there’s no denying the pull it has over him. Eight hours ago had been backstage, twenty minutes before they were set to go onstage, too rushed to be even remotely a good idea. Harry had put Louis on the floor and kept him there, facedown, hauling his hips up to meet Harry’s, and fucked him short and fast, resisting the urge to sink his teeth in until the very end.</p>
<p>They’d both still been trembling by the time they took the stage. The only thing that kept Harry from doing it all over again in front of 60,000 people had been the roof over the arena, hiding the moon from view. He doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to stop himself when they reach the outdoor stadiums.</p>
<p>By the time he drags his gaze up Louis’ body to his face, Louis’ eyes are open. “How many times do I have to tell you that ogling me in my sleep is what normal people would consider creepy?”</p>
<p>“You smelled like me during the show,” Harry says instead of answering the question. It had been distracting to the point of being visible to the fans. Liam had taken to physically spinning Harry in the right direction every time he’d followed Louis somewhere without thinking.</p>
<p>“I always smell like you,” Louis says. He’s lying still enough that it must be intentional.</p>
<p>“More than normal,” Harry amends. It’s almost five in the morning, and if it wasn’t winter the sun would be coming up soon, easing the instincts coiling through Harry’s body.</p>
<p>As it is, there’s still a couple hours before that’ll happen.</p>
<p>Louis’ mouth curls up at the corner, teasing. “That’s generally what happens when you come bare in someone.”</p>
<p>It had been the first show that coincided with a full moon. Stupidly, Harry had thought that he had it under control, that it wouldn’t be a big deal. It hadn’t turned into a shitshow, but it also hadn’t gone as smoothly as he’d thought. It’s something they’ll have to work on.</p>
<p>“You knew what you were doing the entire time,” Harry realizes. He thought it had been normal, the way Louis had been moving, the way he’d been looking at Harry, but it was intentional, wasn’t it. Flirtatious. Trying to get underneath Harry’s skin.</p>
<p>It had worked.</p>
<p>“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Louis denies.</p>
<p>“That’s dangerous,” Harry says. He puts his hand on the bare expanse of Louis’ back, flat, and doesn’t look at how much skin it covers. “Playing with my instincts like that. It could get you seriously hurt.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think so,” Louis says thoughtfully. He squirms underneath Harry’s hand, rucking his shirt up higher. “I think that the only thing your instincts tell you to do to me is <i>claim</i>.”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t say anything, curling his fingers against Louis’ back, nails lightly scratching his skin. He can’t deny it.</p>
<p>In the face of Harry’s silence, Louis rolls over. His shirt bunches up underneath his armpits as he does, exposing more skin, belly bare and ripe for the taking. Harry shifts, setting more evenly onto his knees.</p>
<p>“How much do you want to bite me right now?” Louis asks. Harry’s hand is hovering over his stomach, displaced when he had moved, and he takes it, presses it down flat again. “I showered, after the show. Washed all of your come out, got myself squeaky clean. Don’t really smell like you anymore.”</p>
<p>Harry’s teeth ache to be buried in Louis’ skin. His hand slides up, thumbing at one of Louis’ nipples idly. Louis’ doesn’t react other than to sink his teeth into the swell of his bottom lip.</p>
<p>“You can’t play me like that,” Harry says, low. People are still sleeping, and he’s having a hard time controlling the violence in his system.</p>
<p>Louis reaches out, hooks two fingers in the waist of Harry’s pants and uses them to pull him closer, until he’s braced over Louis, face to face. “If the bus wasn’t moving, I would run,” Louis says quietly, matching Harry’s tone.</p>
<p>Instantly, Harry’s cock throbs, Louis’ hand so close to it, the cadence of his voice, the meaning of his words all coming together to have arousal surging through Harry’s veins.</p>
<p>“Find a nice forest somewhere, let you chase me through it, use every trick I know to make you work for it, until you finally catch up to me and put me exactly where you want me,” Louis continues. His voice is a low, soft murmur of a thing, meant only for Harry’s ears, and Harry climbs onto the couch with him, unable to resist it anymore, bracketing Louis’ body with his own.</p>
<p>Louis’ hard. Harry can feel it even through the fabric of his jeans, uncomfortably cramped and begging for release. He pops the button, goes for Louis’ zipper without preamble. </p>
<p>“How do you think I would want you, then?” Harry asks, zip undone, reaching inside for Louis’ cock. Louis doesn’t wear his jeans quite as tight as Harry does, but it’s still a tight fit. Harry makes it work, curling his fingers around Louis’ cock, fisting it roughly.</p>
<p>Louis’ throat works as he bites back a moan, hips arching up into Harry’s hand helplessly. Harry grins, pulling him off fast and rough. Doesn’t have it in him to be gentle right now.</p>
<p>“Like – like earlier,” Louis says, voice breaking a bit in the middle. “Arse up, face down, wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from fucking me fast and hard. Might lick me a little, first, get me wet enough to take it. Use me until you’re spent, then – ”</p>
<p>He hesitates. He doesn’t smell nearly enough like Harry, not since he showered, and all the lust and violence of the moon is rushing through Harry’s body, at its peak in a way that says it’ll be over soon. Harry uses his free hand to shove his own pants down, uncaring of the way they tangle and stop mid-thigh, gathering both of their cocks in one hand and stroking them as coordinated as he can, reaching up for Louis’ wrists with the other.</p>
<p>“Then what,” Harry says, gritty. He buries his face in Louis’ throat, forcing his head to tilt back, giving up the space, the thrum of need echoing in both of them. Louis whines, shifting underneath Harry, but not like he’s trying to get away. Like he’s trying to give Harry as much space as he needs. Knows that he’s asking too much, <i>demanding</i> too much as he uses his teeth, doesn’t care.</p>
<p>Louis’ cock jerks against his, wetness spilling out the head, not coming, not quite yet. Harry wants to come in him, over and over again until he smells right, properly like Harry, until he looks it too, hair mussed, eyes bright, cheeks flushed and marks all of him that say who he belongs to.</p>
<p>“You’d stay like that,” Louis says, hushed, throat vibrating against Harry’s tongue. “Wouldn’t let me up, even after you’d finished coming, keep pinned down in the dirt until the sun started rising, fuck me over and over again, until it hurt, until I was sore, until there’s not a single piece of me that doesn’t belong to you.”</p>
<p>Harry bites him, forcing a shocked, whimpery noise out of Louis’ throat. Uses his teeth for real, pressing a mark into Louis’ skin that will last for days, show everyone where he belongs.</p>
<p>“So fucking pretty,” Harry murmurs, pulling back so he can look at his work, the soft glint of light on Louis’ face, the skin Harry has exposed. He can’t fuck Louis properly, not here, not with people around to hear, no matter how much he wants to. They need privacy for that, for Louis to beg, to whine, to make Harry work for it. “My pretty little mate.”</p>
<p>He crushes his mouth against Louis’ before he can respond. It’s less of a kiss than it is a mauling, and this situation is far from perfect, neither of them even naked, trapped on a moving bus going a hundred kilometers an hour, but it’s Louis underneath him and that’s always going to be enough. There’s no finesse about the way Harry gets them off, running on pure instinct as he gets closer and closer to the edge, and there’s no doubt they’re going to get so much shit for this from the boys, but it’s enough. </p>
<p>They come more or less at the same time, Harry swallowing the sounds out of Louis’ mouth, pressing him down against the couch, holding him still as come shoots up his belly, covering his bare skin, getting on his t-shirt. Knows he’s biting at Louis’ mouth, unable to stop himself. Doesn’t stop until Louis goes slowly still underneath him, lax and sleepy.</p>
<p>“I love you,” Harry tells him. He’s still holding Louis’ wrists over his head, so he pulls them down slowly, taking in the gorgeous picture that is a thoroughly debauched mate.</p>
<p>Louis smiles at him, sharp, way too dangerous for Harry’s well-being. “You don’t say.”</p>
<p>The throb of the moon has faded some, giving way to a warm glow in the center of Harry’s chest. It’s not perfect, and he thinks he might actually maim someone to get all the things Louis was promising him, but here, with Louis still underneath him and in no hurry to go anywhere, they can make do. For now.</p>
<p>“You didn’t let me fuck you, after the show,” Harry says. He’d wanted to. Before the show had been rushed, adrenaline and desire, and they hadn’t had time before going on stage to come down from the high of it. It’s a small miracle Harry hadn’t actually stalked Louis across the stage the entire show.</p>
<p>“That would have been worse, I think,” Louis says. He turns his hand over, laces his fingers through Harry’s. Doesn’t seem to care that someone could walk in on them at any second and see him like this. “Here, there’s only a handful of people who all know us that could witness anything. There, who knows who could have walked in.”</p>
<p>He’s not wrong. Harry turns his head, nuzzles his face against the marks he’s left on Louis’ wrist. Less prominent than the ones on his neck, they’ll fade fast.</p>
<p>“Next time, we’ll get it right,” Louis whispers, promising. “I’ll let you chase me through the woods, get me all dirty and marked up.”</p>
<p>“Are you going to let me catch you?” Harry asks, squeezing Louis’ fingers, just a little. The pull of the moon is almost completely gone now. The sun must be coming up.</p>
<p>Louis smirks at him, marked up and thoroughly Harry’s even if he doesn’t have Harry’s come inside him right now. “If you can’t catch me without me giving you some kind of advantage, you’re not going to get to have me at all.”</p>
<p>“Baby,” Harry says, gathering Louis’ wrists together in one of his hands again and squeezing them tight, “<i>When</i> I catch you during the next full moon, you’re going to be so sore you won’t be able to move after.”</p>
<p>He kisses the laughter right out of Louis’ mouth, and thinks that he tastes like sunshine and happiness. It’s a taste that’s never going to get old.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Make A Run, Cause Some Rebellion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Kitten Hybrid<br/>Brief Spanking</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mm,” Louis mumbles drowsily. “Do’n stop.” </p>
<p>If he had even an ounce more energy, he would be arching up into Harry’s hand, forcing him to keep petting. He doesn’t. So really the only thing he can do is lie face down on the ground in the bright warmth of the sun and think demanding thoughts really hard in Harry’s direction.</p>
<p>It works, kind of. Harry keeps rubbing his back, big hand pressing down just hard enough to turn it into one of the best kinds of aches there is. He’s doing it halfheartedly, though, like his attention is not entirely focused on the task at hand, like maybe he’s got his phone in his other hand and is scrolling through one of those weird hipster websites again.</p>
<p>Louis moves his tongue in his mouth, sliding it over the sharp edges of his canines and thinks about squirming around onto his back and biting Harry’s hand until he’s as invested in this as Louis is.</p>
<p>That would only serve to get him into trouble. Louis keeps pondering it anyway, because trouble is kind of his middle name. He and trouble are good friends, go way back, and just because Harry doesn’t want to - </p>
<p>“Ow!” he yelps, sudden and startled. Harry’s just hit him. Harry’s just spanked him on Louis’ poor tender arse. “What was that for?”</p>
<p>Anyone could have seen what Harry has just done with the way they’re sitting out in the open like this. Louis should call the authorities on him. Spanking is meant to be <i>private</i>.</p>
<p>“I’m always paying enough attention to you to know when you’re contemplating doing something to me,” Harry says dryly, resting his hand right on top of Louis’ bum as though he owns it or something.</p>
<p>He doesn’t own it. Louis owns it. Anyone who disputes that is just an idiot.</p>
<p>“I hate you,” Louis complains into his arms. “Here I am, just lying here and enjoying the sun, and you have to go and spank me for no reason. I’ve not even done anything to you. I want a divorce.”</p>
<p>“Oh, sweetheart, if we were married, the last thing you could ever convince me to do is sign divorce papers,” Harry says. “You’d have better luck convincing me to have a threesome, and you know how I am about sharing.”</p>
<p>The way he says it is so casual, like it’s a given, that if they were married he would do everything in his power to ensure that they stayed that way. It’s been almost two years, now, but Louis’ breath still catches in his throat every time Harry speaks like that. It’s something like ownership, something that ties the two of them together irrevocably, and Louis used to tell himself that he didn’t want that, that he would never let someone claim him like that, forever and ever amen.</p>
<p>If it is ownership, then Louis owns him back just as hard, maybe even harder. Harry lets him get away with too much for it not to be like that.</p>
<p>Louis scrambles up off the ground, knocking Harry backwards as he climbs into his lap, so Harry is the one on the ground this time, kissing him hard. Their teeth clack together, and it’s a little painful, maybe a bit too much because Harry reaches up and cups the back of Louis’ head, gentling it.</p>
<p>Whatever. Louis has a lot of feelings, and most of them are about Harry. He can’t be judged for expressing them in a semi-violent way.</p>
<p>The kiss gets long fast. Long and dirty and Louis shifts on Harry’s lap, trying to get into a more comfortable position. He could sit in Harry’s lap and kiss him all day, but he wants to feel Harry’s cock digging into his bum as he does it. There’s no point in wasting an erection, Louis always says, and it’s no less than a crying shame if he can’t feel Harry’s.</p>
<p>Louis is just getting really into it when a football hits him in the side. It’s gentle, but he still looks up, offended. “Hey! This is a public park, you wankers!” Liam shouts.</p>
<p>He’s probably just trying to help them avoid a public indecency charge, but Louis still kind of wants to chase him around and claw at him. Just a bit. He had a good thing going here, after all.</p>
<p>Harry pinches his side. “No,” he says firmly. Louis looks down at him, weighing his options. If he gets up and chases Liam around the park Harry will probably spank him when they get home. If he doesn’t get up and chase Liam around the park he could still probably convince Harry to give him a spanking when they get home. There’s plenty of ways to be bad, after all. Louis would know.</p>
<p>He chooses to stay in Harry’s lap. It has nothing at all to do with the possessive grip Harry’s got on his arse and everything to do with the depth of his feelings for Harry.</p>
<p>Forever and ever, amen.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Swallow The Knife</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Future Fic<br/>Immature Fights</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Get out of the way before I murder you,” Louis snaps. His jaw feels tight, throat sore, and he knows himself, knows that he’s thirty seconds away from bursting into tears.</p>
<p>“I think we both know that I’m not going to do that,” Harry says. He’s using his entire body to block the door, unfairly big and broad, and Louis could absolutely take him, he <i>could</i>, but he turns around instead, curling his fingers into his palms and taking ragged breaths to try to get himself under control.</p>
<p>In truth, this isn’t even really something worth crying over. They’ve been fighting on and off for the past couple of days, him and Harry, about stupid shit, sniping at each other and getting on each other’s nerves, and Harry’s already apologized for it. Louis is the one who’s incapable of letting it go, incapable of doing anything except trying to make Harry feel as shitty as he does right now.</p>
<p>“Lemme hold you,” Harry says, breaking the near-silence, still between Louis and the door, keeping him trapped in this tiny green room with him like being trapped on the bus with him four hours ago wasn’t bad enough.</p>
<p>It’s worse, too, when Louis thinks about the fact that the sentence doesn’t even sound complete without Harry adding <i>baby</i> to the end of it, like he’s trying to convince himself that they’ve ever been anything near platonic.</p>
<p>“Fuck off,” Louis says. It doesn’t sound as angry now as when he’d said it ten minutes ago. He’s starting to feel stupid just standing here in the middle of this mostly empty room, so he goes to sit on the couch, burying his face in his hands.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Harry says, the word coming out of him heavily. “Can we just press pause on this fight for a bit then?”</p>
<p>It’s another thing that stabs deep at Louis’ chest, tearing him to pieces. There used to be a time when Harry wouldn’t even ask that question, or if he could hold Louis. He’d just do it, and sure, there were always parts of that that hurt too, but it wasn’t anything like this.</p>
<p>“I hate you,” Louis says to his knees.</p>
<p>“Well that’s a crying fucking shame,” Harry says, “because I love you.”</p>
<p>It’s dangerously close to being a confession. Louis’ laugh is wild, unhinged, and more than anything he wants Harry to hold him. That’s basically all he ever wants though, so that’s far from a surprise.</p>
<p>“Alright,” he says, and refuses to take his face out of his hands. “I reserve the right to push you off the couch if I feel like it, though.”</p>
<p>He lies down before he can change his mind, pressing his face against the cushions and drawing his knees up, leaving enough space for Harry to fit in behind him.</p>
<p>“So it’s like any other day, then?” Harry asks. It’s less of a question than it is a statement, and he feels so warm when he fits himself against Louis’ back, breathing unsteadily against the back of his neck.</p>
<p>He’s also at least half hard and he doesn’t shy away from pressing his hips right up against Louis’ arse. It’s kind of comforting, actually, that no matter how hard – no pun intended – things are between them, Louis can always count on the fact that overt displays of brattiness always turn Harry on.</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Louis grumbles, and nothing’s really changed, but he feels a little better anyway.</p>
<hr/>
<p>They’ve been fighting again, him and Harry. It seems like it’s been getting worse lately, and no matter how many times Louis tells himself that he’s not going to keep deliberately irritating Harry, it’s like he can’t stop himself as soon as they’re in the same room.</p>
<p>It’s actually kind of a shame. They’re on separate busses right now, miles of American highway running underneath them, and normally that wouldn’t be a problem. Zayn banished him from the lounge an hour and a half ago, though, citing Louis’ obnoxious American singing voice as the reason, and now Louis is lying alone in his bunk, staring up at the dark ceiling. He’s tired, but he’s also grumpy and he doesn’t feel like sleeping, and he misses Harry. And right now, he hates that he misses Harry. They just saw each other four hours ago. They’re going to see each other in eight hours at the venue. There’s no reason for Louis to be feeling like this.</p>
<p>None of that is making Louis feel any better. He lies there angrily for a few more minutes before rolling over to grab his phone.</p>
<p><i>you’re a wanker</i>, he texts Harry. He waits in the near darkness of his bunk, but Harry doesn’t respond. So he sends a few more, varying in degrees of foul-mouthedness and threats. None of those get a response, either. It’s three-thirty in the morning, and Harry is probably sleeping.</p>
<p>Fuck Harry. Louis doesn’t need him anyway.</p>
<p>When the bus pulls to a stop about forty-five minutes later, Louis rolls out of his bunk and hops towards the door in his bare feet, pulling it open and darting outside before Carl, the driver, can yell at him. They’re at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. Louis runs across the asphalt to Bus 2, punching in the door code and scampering in.</p>
<p>It’s dark and quiet inside. Or, at least, it’s quiet until Liam groans and hisses, “Tommo, really?”</p>
<p>Louis ignores him, whacking his hand against Liam’s bunk curtain on his way to Harry’s. He pulls back Harry’s curtain, staring at him. Harry doesn’t move, back bare and facing him. He’s lying on his side, facing the wall. It looks like he’s sleeping. Louis watches him for another minute before reaching out and flicking Harry’s shoulder. “I’m mad at you.”</p>
<p>“Louis,” Liam hisses, clearly annoyed.</p>
<p>“Shut up, Liam,” Louis calls back, only tamping down his volume about ten percent. He turns his attention back to Harry, who clearly isn’t sleeping, whacking him on the back. “Hey, did you hear me? I’m mad at you.”</p>
<p>“Everyone heard you, Louis, shut up!” Niall yells. A pillow lands on the floor near Louis’ feet. </p>
<p>Louis bends down to scoop it up, tossing it into Harry’s bunk. Niall doesn’t deserve to have it back if he’s going to get so violent. “Harry.”</p>
<p>Finally, Harry sighs, back heaving dramatically under Louis’ hand. If Louis wasn’t mad at him, it’d be funny. “Yes, I heard you.”</p>
<p>His voice is dry and monotonous. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to apologize, and if Louis was less stubborn he’d get back on the other bus before it’s too late.</p>
<p>Louis <i>isn’t</i> any less stubborn and they both know it. “You made me cry,” he informs Harry’s back.</p>
<p>Harry’s sigh is even more dramatic than his first one. “No, I didn’t.”</p>
<p>Louis contemplates Harry’s back for a minute. Then he goes to the kitchen, grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, and returns to Harry’s bunk. Harry’s closed the curtain again, a clear sign that he wants to be left alone. Louis ignores it, ripping it open again. He opens the bottle of water, carefully pouring a bit into the cap, and then lets it drip onto Harry’s arm.</p>
<p>“These are my tears,” he says. “You’re making me cry right now.”</p>
<p>“That’s cold water,” Harry says. His back is tense, practically vibrating with how much effort it’s taking not to react.</p>
<p>If Louis was capable of actually making himself burst into tears, he’d do it right now. No matter how pissed off Harry is at him, he always lets it go when Louis starts crying. And Louis could really go for a cuddle right now.</p>
<p>“It’s my tears,” Louis says, pouring another capful of water on Harry’s arm. Harry doesn’t react, shoving his face further into the pillow, grabbing the other one Louis had tossed into the bunk and putting it over his head.</p>
<p>Well, fine then. Louis recaps the bottle and drops it onto the floor, turning around. “Leeyum, will you give me a cuddle? Harry doesn’t love me anymore and he’s ignoring me.”</p>
<p>Liam groans, but that’s not a refusal, so Louis clambers up into his bunk. He makes a big, dramatic show of getting comfortable, fluffing up the part of the pillow that Liam’s head isn’t resting on and clinging to his back. Liam’s body is sleep warm, and he doesn’t move over to make any room, so Louis’ arse is hanging out of the bunk. He also doesn’t smell like Harry does, uses a different body wash. It’s almost unsettling.</p>
<p>Luckily, Louis doesn’t have to deal with it for long before big hands are plucking him out of the bunk. The world spins around him unsettlingly, limbs dangling at awkward angles for a few seconds. Then he’s right side up again and being shoved into Harry’s bunk, pushed all the way over so Harry can climb in after him.</p>
<p>“Really?” Harry asks him, unamused. He’s hovering over Louis’ body, one hand planted beside his head so he won’t fall and crush him. “You’re really trying to make me jealous by asking Liam for a cuddle?”</p>
<p>Well, it’s not exactly like it hadn’t worked, now is it? He wouldn’t have grabbed Louis if he wasn’t at least a little jealous.</p>
<p>“H,” Louis whispers, curling his fingers around Harry’s shoulder, making his eyes big and as wet as he can. He may not be able to cry on cue, but he can pull off doleful. </p>
<p>“Don’t give me that look,” Harry says mildly, pinching Louis’ bottom lip between two fingers gently. “You’re the one who threw a fit and refused to let me come on the bus with you.”</p>
<p>Louis had, but only because Harry had been a dick. He stands by that assessment. And if Harry hadn’t have been mad at him in return he would have just ignored Louis saying that and joined him anyway. Neither of them are faultless here, is what Louis is saying. Of course, he is less to blame than Harry is, though.</p>
<p>“Zayn banished me from the lounge,” Louis whispers. “He was being mean to me.”</p>
<p>The glint of Harry’s smile in the dark is enough to send a stab of arousal through Louis’ gut. If it was light enough to catch Harry’s dimples, Louis would probably be well on his way to being hard. “That’s probably because you were annoying him with your whining. You know no one else likes it the way I do.”</p>
<p>If he asked, Louis would suck his cock right now, no questions asked. There’s a sense of security in knowing that Harry won’t ask.</p>
<p>“Are you sorry for not bringing me tea yet?” Louis asks, tugging at the bottom of Harry’s necklace. Harry relaxes against the thin mattress, their bodies touching from the hip down. The curtain is still open, so anyone could look in at them if they wanted to, and Louis is going to make Harry fix that in a few minutes. For now, it’s fine.</p>
<p>“No,” Harry says, curling his fingers against the side of Louis’ neck, tips just barely brushing his ear. “You’re a brat and you need to learn that you can’t always get your way.”</p>
<p>It’s only the tip of what they’d fought about yesterday. It’s about the extent of what they’re ever going to talk about out loud, though, and in the quiet darkness of Harry’s bunk it feels like enough. After three years, Harry shouldn’t still be able to get to him like this. So easily, so fully.</p>
<p>Pleased, Louis squirms a little closer, hitching his thigh up over Harry’s. “Will you get me a cup of tea right now?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely not,” Harry says firmly. He reaches down and squeezes Louis’ big toe. “You think you deserve some kind of reward for escaping your bus barefoot in the middle of the night?”</p>
<p>Louis deserves all kinds of rewards for that stunt and many others. He’d tell Harry that, but he’s pretty sure Harry already knows.</p>
<p>“I’m not some kind of escaped mental patient, you know,” Louis says. “Frankly, it’s kind of offensive that you’re referring to me like that.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m not,” Harry says. “You’re only crazy in the best kind of way, baby. That doesn’t change the fact that what you need right now is sleep, not tea.”</p>
<p>Louis struggles just enough to make it worth it when Harry shoves him back down again. “You don’t get to tell me what I need.”</p>
<p>Harry presses his forehead against Louis’, their faces so close Louis has to close his eyes. Even this close, Harry is devastatingly attractive. When they sleep together, it’s hard to remember all the reasons why they don’t have sex. Because there are reasons, Louis is pretty sure. They’re even good ones. Times like these, it’s very hard to convince his body that it’s a bad idea to let Harry put it in him.</p>
<p>“Don’t I, though?” Harry asks quietly. His breath is still minty from when he’d brushed his teeth, washing over Louis’ cheek. “I take good care of you, baby, don’t I? Sometimes you just gotta trust that I know what you need.”</p>
<p>Louis’ breath catches in his throat. For a second, he doesn’t remember how to breathe, Harry pressed up so close to him there’s no mistaking the hardness of his cock. He doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t even know if there’s anything he can say to it. Denying it isn’t going to do him any good, not when Harry already knows it’s true.</p>
<p>What he wants to say isn’t going to do any good, either. It’s not like Harry doesn’t know it anyway. Five words they both already know are true without needing to say them won’t change anything. Not when they’re still in a place where they can’t do anything about it.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Louis whispers. His throat aches as he says it, but if it’s all he can have for now, it’s what he’ll take.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Harry murmurs, nose nudging at Louis’ cheek, so close to being a kiss Louis could cry, “I love you, you know that, right?”</p>
<p>It’s a couple of words off of being the exact thing Louis wants to hear him say. It’s what he can have right now, though, so he nods, eyes still closed, and whispers it back. When he falls asleep, he dreams about their someday.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Soaked In The Blood Of Angels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Creatures AU<br/>Blood<br/>Vampire<br/>Incubus</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blood. The smell of it is heavy in the air, warm and heady. It’s close, close enough that Harry can practically taste it, and his fangs have already dropped into his mouth before he even finishes opening his eyes.</p>
<p>Louis is sitting on top of his hips. He’s bare. That’s really the only word for it. He’s not naked, but calling him clothed would be a misleading description. He’s wearing an old, soft t-shirt and a pair of pants, but there’s no allure around him, no shimmer of anything less than genuine.</p>
<p>Just blood. The blood he’s letting drip from his palm down his wrist and onto Harry’s chest.</p>
<p>He’s <i>trying</i> to get himself bitten. That’s the only explanation for this.</p>
<p>Harry’s going to do it, there’s no question about that, but for now he resists, digging his fingers into Louis’ hips in case he has any big ideas about changing his mind. “This is a pleasant surprise,” he murmurs. It’s been a week since he saw Louis, and it’s been no less frustrating than it’s always been.</p>
<p>That also means it’s been a week since Harry’s had the real thing, fresh from living veins. Bottled blood is just not the same, no matter how it gets dressed up.</p>
<p>“Don’t talk unless I tell you to,” Louis orders. He seems just as frustrated as Harry is.</p>
<p>Good. This isn’t the way Harry would have it if he had a choice. If he could have it his way Louis would be around all the time, mostly naked whenever he’s in the penthouse, lazing around instead of doing whatever it is he does on a daily basis. Always around for Harry to have his fill and for Louis to take whatever he needs.</p>
<p>“Did you get what you needed, then?” Harry needles, unable to stop himself. If there’s a hint of resentment in his tone he doesn’t think he can be blamed. It has been a week, after all, and every time he thinks they’re taking a step forwards Louis disappears. </p>
<p>“Didn’t I <i>just</i> tell you not to talk?” Louis snaps, clenching his fist harder. The slow stream of blood slows even more, fresh scent of it getting a little hidden. Harry’s teeth ache from how much he wants to bite a fresh wound into the hollow of Louis’ throat, suck until he’s full and Louis is dazed, pliable. It takes longer with him than with anyone Harry’s ever met, and he has to work harder at it, but that just makes it all the more rewarding when it finally happens.</p>
<p>Harry sits up, not relinquishing his grip on Louis’ hips. “Get it all out of your system, convince yourself that you don’t need me just in time to show back up here again, looking for more?” he continues. His patience is wearing thin, and he’s about out of forgiveness. This thing between them is stronger, more powerful than anything Harry’s ever felt before, and he’s pretty sure that together there’s nothing in the world that could stop them.</p>
<p>The last time they had sex their combined magic had flowed out of them, flooding the room with a dark, ethereal glow, and Harry’s club had seen so much business they’d actually sold out of liquor. In a <i>nightclub</i>.</p>
<p>“You keep pushing and I’m going to walk out of here right now,” Louis says. It’s clearly a warning.</p>
<p>It’s a warning that Harry ignores. He digs his fingers into Louis’ hips a little harder, nearly breaking the skin, and flips them over, not bothering to tamp his strength back. </p>
<p>“You’re not,” he says, bending his head to lay his mouth over Louis’, just barely brushing. “There’s no one else’s scent on you. You haven’t fed in a week, have you.”</p>
<p>It’s not really a question. They both know the answer to it anyway.</p>
<p>“Fuck off,” Louis says, struggling a little, trying to land his elbow in Harry’s gut. Harry pins him back into place easily, holding him there, and he knows there’s a million ways Louis could get out of this.</p>
<p>He doesn’t.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. A/B/O Pornstars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>A/B/O Dynamics<br/>Pornstars<br/>Antagonistic Relationship<br/>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Dubious Consent<br/>Light Bondage</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The water bottle in Harry’s hand starts collapsing from the amount of force he’s squeezing it with. “I will put you up against a wall and knot you right there, ruin every single camera angle, don’t think that I won’t.”</p>
<p>Louis scoffs, clad in a white terrycloth robe, so far from fully dressed it’s making Harry’s head spin, unafraid and blatant with it despite the fact that Harry’s been crowding him into a corner for the past three and a half minutes. “Like you’ve ever been able to control yourself once you get close enough to me anyway. The only reason we’ve ever gotten anything done is because of me.”</p>
<p>That terrycloth robe starts slipping down Louis’ right shoulder, exposing the bite mark on his skin, the one Harry will never let fade away, no matter what. It’s distracting, and the thing is, the thing is Harry doesn’t even know if Louis is doing it on purpose anymore.</p>
<p>He’s too close to his rut. He always loses most of his brain functionality when he’s this close to a rut.</p>
<p>“Say you’re sorry,” he demands, leaning in farther, barely resisting the urge to kick Louis’ feet apart, get him to <i>spread</i>. There’ll be plenty of time for that once the cameras start rolling.</p>
<p>This close, Louis smells like honey and fresh rainwater. He’s always smelled sweet, appealing, and that’s a nightmare of a fact when it comes to collaborating it with his personality. Honestly, Harry doesn’t even know why people watch their videos anymore - the first few times for the novelty, sure, but after that the unexpectedness of it wears off. It always takes Harry at least twenty minutes to coax Louis into a mood in which he’s willing to get fucked, and that’s after all the swearing and insulting each other out has been edited out.</p>
<p>Louis’ scoff is even more dramatized this time. “For what?” he asks, a demand of his own. “For eating a granola bar? You’re the one who’s always telling me that I have to keep my energy up.”</p>
<p>“That was <i>my</i> granola bar,” Harry says, giving in to the urge and shoving Louis’ feet wider apart, stepping into the gap he’s created. “My <i>last</i> granola bar.”</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be a bit frightened. “Wow, it’s almost like you can’t walk out the door and down the hallway to craft services and get yourself another ten if you wanted to.”</p>
<p><i>Fuck</i>. This ornery little bastard, what Harry wouldn’t give to - He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.</p>
<p>The only thing he accomplishes is getting a great big whiff of Louis’ scent, and yeah, that’s not helping matters any <i>at all</i>.</p>
<p>“Sometimes I just want to wring your neck,” Harry says, planting his hands on the wall on either side of Louis’ shoulders, as close as he can get without actually touching.</p>
<p>“You can try,” Louis says, tipping his head thoughtfully. “Guarantee that I’ll break your nose before you succeed, though.”</p>
<p>If this goes on any longer, Harry’s going to tear that stupid little robe open and fuck Louis until he cries for it, great big tears filling those pretty blue eyes, hiccupping and gasping for breath, begging for Harry to stop and keep going at the same time.</p>
<p>It takes effort to pull himself away. Louis just watches him, sardonic little twist to his mouth, unmoving from the position Harry had put him in like it was all his idea in the first place.</p>
<p>Sweat trickles down Harry’s spine. He doesn’t say another word as he slams his way out of the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s another twenty minutes before the camera crew is ready for them. Harry spends the entirety of it skulking around a dark hallway, doing his best to avoid Louis. Not that he thinks Louis is actually going to come looking for him, but still. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.</p>
<p>The fire hasn’t gone out by the time they’re called to set. Harry is still riled up, still a little bit sweaty, no less angry.</p>
<p>No less turned on.</p>
<p>When he gets there, Louis is already lounging on the bed, still wearing that dumb robe, even though he knows Harry’s going to pull it off him any second now. Harry’s scowl refuses to fade as he joins Louis on the bed, lying back against the mountain of pillows, two inches of space between their bodies.</p>
<p>This bed isn’t unsimilar to the one Harry has at home, entirely too big and decorated. It feels familiar, even smells familiar. Harry doesn’t feel out of place here at all.</p>
<p>“Any time you’re ready, guys,” the director says.</p>
<p>Neither of them move. Harry chances a glance over. Louis is lying there, arms folded across his chest, mulish expression set on his face. He can clearly feel Harry looking at him because he rolls his eyes and says, “I’m not doing it. Arsehole.”</p>
<p>Harry’s fingers clench in the sheets. Louis knows exactly what kind of reaction he’s going to get from calling Harry names.</p>
<p>“Whatever,” Harry responds, entirely childish, and sits up, reaching over to undo the knot on the belt holding Louis’ robe together.</p>
<p>“Just like you to go straight to the fucking without any foreplay whatsoever,” Louis complains immediately, slapping Harry’s hands away. Harry takes a deep breath and resists the urge to just <i>tear</i> the robe off of Louis’ body, leave him naked and exposed.</p>
<p>“Are you <i>trying</i> to make this difficult?” Harry asks. His hands are too close to Louis’ body, still close enough to touch, and resisting that urge is harder than it should be.</p>
<p>Louis is naked underneath the robe, after all, and Louis’ naked skin has never been something Harry is good at resisting.</p>
<p>“Are you <i>trying</i> to make me the least turned on I’ve ever been in my life?” Louis shoots back. “Because if that’s the case, you’re really close to succeeding.”</p>
<p>Okay, that’s <i>it</i>. Harry’s had enough of this. He surges up, going for Louis’ mouth and the belt at the same time.</p>
<p>He only gets one of the two. His mouth lands against Louis’ at the perfect angle, but Louis knocks his hand out of the way before it can make contact with the belt, and that brief, perfect second of contact is over even quicker than it started.</p>
<p>They roll around on the bed, fighting for the upper hand, and Harry would like to say that this is the first time their films have started out this way, but it’s not. It’s not even the fifth time.</p>
<p>“Stop it,” Harry hisses, finally getting the belt free and catching both of Louis’ wrists at the same time.</p>
<p>Really, there’s only one way this can end.</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Louis says, preemptive and useless. Harry wrestles him back down, holding him flat against the bed and looping the belt around his wrists once, twice, three times, making the knot as secure as it’ll get. There’s no way Louis is going to get out of it.</p>
<p>Done, Harry leans back to admire his work. Louis has ended up flat on his belly, head twisting to glare at Harry over his shoulder. “If you even <i>try</i> - ” Louis starts, venom dripping from every word.</p>
<p>Harry slaps him. Right on the arse, open handed and hard, putting his back into it. The sound of skin connecting to skin echoes with a loud crack throughout the room, and Harry’s been at least half hard since the second he spotted Louis with that granola bar in his mouth. He’s fully hard now.</p>
<p>“Mother<i>fucker</i>,” Louis spits, wiggling under Harry’s hand, and Harry gives him another smack just for the insolence of it. He’s got half a mind to say <i>you kiss your mother with that mouth?</i> but he’s pretty sure that would only end in Louis getting up and walking out, camera crew filming or not.</p>
<p>Besides, he knows exactly who Louis’ been kissing with that mouth. That pretty, dirty, sex hungry mouth.</p>
<p>“You wanna get dicked any time tonight you better stop talking to me like that,” Harry says, bending down to press the words right into Louis’ ear. Louis’ hands twitch underneath him, and Harry can practically feel him thinking about whether he wants to grab for a handful of flesh and pinch.</p>
<p>Harry pulls away before that can happen. Louis’ pinches are the fucking worst. He’s got small fingers but an insane grip.</p>
<p>“Fuck you,” Louis snarls, still squirming, trying to work his way free. Harry slaps him again, harder this time. Not as hard as he can, but hard. Louis stifles a noise, burying his face back into pillow for a second to mask it.</p>
<p>Harry knows - from experience - that the spanking isn’t going to get him anywhere. It turns him on, sure, and it’ll turn Louis on if Harry does it exactly right, but ultimately it makes Louis more pissed off at him after the heat has cooled. It doesn’t solve anything, and it especially doesn’t solve the desire burning in Harry’s gut, the particular one that says <i>bite claim mark take have</i>. The one that’s only appeased by one thing.</p>
<p>Louis is still cussing at him, half muffled, fidgety and irritated, and Harry’s had <i>enough</i> of it. Louis is naked underneath him, wrists all tied up and pretty, leaving him completely exposed to Harry’s mercy, and right now Harry isn’t feeling like he has any.</p>
<p>He slips down, gripping Louis’ arsecheeks with both hands and spreading him apart, licking a wet stripe over his hole firm and quick. Louis doesn’t immediately go boneless, too stubborn for that, but he relaxes a fraction, and that’s enough.</p>
<p>“Disagreeable little brat,” Harry mutters, uncaring of whether the cameras pick it up or not, hauling Louis’ hips up and going at it with vigor, using every trick in his book. Every swipe of his tongue unravels Louis a little further, slick betraying him even if his noises weren’t, and <i>yes</i>, this is exactly what Harry was talking about. This is exactly what they both need.</p>
<p>With every second that passes, Louis edges closer to an orgasm, falling towards it with an inevitability that Harry relishes in. He doesn’t stop, pressing his tongue firm against the tight clench of Louis’ hole, loosening him up with every stroke.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know how long he does it for. It doesn’t matter how long he does it for. Louis comes, shuddering and breathing out words Harry can’t quite catch, caught up all tight and tender on the tip of Harry’s tongue.</p>
<p>It’s beautiful. Harry doesn’t have to be seeing it to know that it’s beautiful, that <i>Louis</i> is beautiful, and he’s not going to stop. Not until Louis begs him to.</p>
<p>So he keeps going, keeps licking into Louis’ hole until he can wiggle his tongue into that tight, warm velvet, opening him up for real now. The taste of honey and Louis coats his tongue, over all of his senses, and it doesn’t matter if the cameras are catching any of this or not.</p>
<p>This is all for Harry.</p>
<p>“Harry,” Louis says, barely anything more than a whimper, begging. “Please, I want - ”</p>
<p>He doesn’t finish the sentence. It doesn’t matter, anyway, because Harry isn’t going to stop. Not yet. He keeps licking, keeps going, alternating between laving over the rim of Louis’ hole and pushing inside of him. There’s not an inch on Louis’ body that Harry hasn’t been, not an inch he doesn’t own, and right now no amount of pressure is going to get him to let that go.</p>
<p>“<i>Please</i>,” Louis repeats, a sob catching audibly in his throat, “Harry, please, <i>please</i>,” and fuck, <i>yes</i>, that’s exactly what Harry was waiting for. He pulls his tongue out, rising back up onto his knees and manhandling Louis up as well.</p>
<p>It doesn’t take much. Louis goes, easily malleable, and Harry turns him over to the frankly breathtaking sight of tear tracks on his cheeks, eyelashes wet and clumped together, mouth bitten pink and soft.</p>
<p>From there, it barely takes any effort to unwind the belt from Louis’ wrists, arranging them properly on the bed before reaching up to loop it through the headboard, getting Louis’ hands secured again in less than the time it took him to eat Harry’s granola bar earlier.</p>
<p>Harry’s still a little mad about it.</p>
<p>“C’mon, baby, up you get,” Harry murmurs, catching Louis’ hips in his hands and stopping him from turning around before he’s even got started, making sure he slides down on Harry’s cock with his back pressed up against Harry’s chest, arms caught up over his head and nowhere to go.</p>
<p>“Ah,” Louis breathes, and keeps breathing like that, hitched and deep, until he’s all the way down. </p>
<p>He’s still beautiful, Harry knows that. Right now it’s for the cameras, though. Harry might not understand exactly why they’ve still got such a following after all this time, but he knows that for him, a good amount of Louis’ appeal comes from how hard he makes Harry work to bend him, bed him. The satisfaction of getting this prickly omega to unravel until he’s boneless and pliant on Harry’s knot, getting everything he needs, that might be the thing Harry likes most about all of this. He has to imagine that at least a couple other people like that too.</p>
<p>It’s for the camera right now. Pretty little omega stuffed full of alpha cock all tied up with nowhere to go, that’s a very specific visual. Harry’s probably going to make Louis recreate this scene a few times in the foreseeable future.</p>
<p>“Good,” Harry says, the word sticking to the back of his throat, sliding a hand over Louis’ chest, rubbing at a nipple, not bothering to be gentle. Gentle has never been what Louis needs at times like these. “Now fuck yourself.”</p>
<p>It’s not going to be easy, not with the way he’s got Louis all twisted up and tied. It’s going to be practically impossible, in fact, but Louis makes a good effort at it anyway, thighs trembling as he struggles to push himself up just enough to slide back down all wet and easy.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t help him. He doesn’t even feel the desire to help him, leaning back and letting Louis do all the work for once, gasping for air like he can’t get enough of it, arms straining at the belt holding him immobile. Harry’s not going to let him go. Louis should know that. Louis probably does know that.</p>
<p>“Please,” Louis whispers, head lolling back against Harry’s shoulder, mouth seeking. Harry gives him what he’s looking for, catching him in a kiss, biting at his bottom lip and tugging his mouth open until their tongues slide together.</p>
<p>Harry would love to say that it’s not the kiss that makes him knot up, but that’d be a lie, and he’s not in the habit of lying to himself. Especially not when the evidence of an untruth is written all over a video on the internet for everyone to see.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know how long he comes for, or how many more times Louis comes in the process. The kiss doesn’t last the entire time, but that doesn’t matter when he’s breathing Louis in like this, when he can touch Louis to his heart’s content, be inside him, making it hurt just a little, just the way Louis likes it to.</p>
<p>Eventually, when it ends and Louis is still sitting there - slumped, really - on Harry’s softening cock, covered in his own come and still full of Harry’s, Harry noses his way down to that bite mark and presses his lips against it gently. He won’t bite, not when they’re still filming, but he never ends a scene without putting his mouth against it. Never.</p>
<p>“You sorry yet?” Harry asks, not moving his mouth from Louis’ shoulder. Doesn’t matter who hears it. Everyone knows. This prickly, stubborn, <i>bastard</i> of an omega doesn’t belong to anyone else and never will. He’s all Harry’s.</p>
<p>“No,” Louis says, voice languid but clear.</p>
<p>Harry wasn’t expecting any less.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Band AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Band AU<br/>Antagonistic Relationship<br/>Scuffle</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gravel crunches softly underneath Harry’s boots as he edges his way around the side of the building. He’s making sure that he’s being as slow and careful as he can without muffling the noise of his footsteps – the last thing he needs to do right now is startle Louis.</p>
<p>Speaking of, Louis is currently lying flat on his back in the middle of the deserted parking lot, sunglasses on despite the fact that it’s two in the morning, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Louis says sharply. He doesn’t move from his position.</p>
<p>“This is a really good way to get yourself killed,” Harry observes, stopping a few feet away, hopefully out of throwing distance. Not that Louis’ aim is ever too good, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.</p>
<p>“Can you just leave me alone?” Louis demands acidly. “Are you capable of doing that or do you just have to be up my arse at all hours of the day?”</p>
<p>Not for the first time, Harry regrets the fact that he drew the short straw and had to be the person to come do this. His luck has been particularly shitty ever since Idaho, when Louis wouldn’t let him share the bed.</p>
<p>“Look, we’re fine,” Harry says, deciding to cut to the chase and ignore Louis’ shitty attitude. “The tow truck should be here within the next forty minutes, and then it’s just a matter of getting the van fixed and we’ll be on our way.”</p>
<p>“We’re not ‘fine,’” Louis says, bringing up his hands to make air quotes just because he knows it’ll piss Harry off. “We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night and I fucking <i>told</i> Liam that this was gonna happen.”</p>
<p>He did say that, but to be fair he’s also been saying that ever since they were waiting for their flight at Heathrow. At this point all of his complaining has pretty much become background noise, sort of like a comforting wave of static. </p>
<p>Harry’s pretty sure that he’s the only one who feels like that, though. He’s also pretty sure that the only reason he feels like that is because Louis occasionally lets him put his cock in his arse. So there’s that.</p>
<p>“No one could have predicted that the spare tire would pop two hours after the first one did,” Harry says diplomatically. Or at least he thinks it’s a rather diplomatic thing to say until Louis whips his sunglasses off and pushes himself up onto his elbows, glaring at Harry.</p>
<p>“Are you really taking his side right now?” Louis demands, and this is a situation that really shouldn’t be funny. They actually are stranded until the tow truck gets here, in a foreign country with a limited amount of money, and Louis has a tendency to make things like this a lot worse than necessary, but. The look on his <i>face</i>.</p>
<p>Harry makes the mistake of laughing out loud. Louis’ face goes from glaring to murderous, and Harry barely has time to yelp and take off running before Louis is scrambling to his feet. And, because sometimes Harry is a fucking idiot, instead of running back to the van where there’s safety in numbers he runs towards a patch of grass at the far end of the lot.</p>
<p>It’s always way too easy to forget all the muscles Louis has from hauling equipment around. He’s tiny, is the thing, and even if Harry would never say it out loud – hello, ensuing violence – they all know it. Harry has those same muscles – more, even, because Harry doesn’t shy away from other exercise the way Louis does – but he’s a lot less coordinated, and he doesn’t really stand a chance of staying on his feet when Louis catches up to him and tackles him.</p>
<p>Luckily, Harry’s made it to that grassy patch, so his resulting fall is at least a little cushioned. They roll around for a minute, scuffling, until Harry manages to get the upper hand and pin Louis down in the grass, both of them flushed with exertion and breathing hard.</p>
<p>Louis’ face is only a little bit less murderous, so Harry preemptively gathers up his wrists in one hand and pins them above his head. He doesn’t put up a struggle about it, so Harry also preemptively shifts his hips so Louis won’t be able to knee him in the cock.</p>
<p>“It’s <i>fine</i>,” Harry says insistently, pressing his forehead against Louis’ and looking into the deep blue of his eyes. “You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Louis says again, closing his eyes. “You bloody well know it’s not like that.”</p>
<p>It’s at least a little bit like that, otherwise Louis wouldn’t keep letting him fuck him when he’s got plenty of other options. </p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry says easily, and nudges at Louis’ jaw with his mouth until Louis tilts his head and lets him turn it into a kiss. They snog like that, lazy and sweet, never getting too deep, until Liam clears his throat from behind them.</p>
<p>“Tow truck’s here, lads,” he says. “You ready?”</p>
<p>Harry slides his tongue against Louis’ once more before pulling away, looking down at Louis’ face, the flush of his cheeks. “Yeah,” he says, and he doesn’t know whether Louis knows he’s not talking about the truck.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. BDSM</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The drabbles in this chapter are: Cockhead Polishing, Prostate Massage, Overstimulation With Toys</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>BDSM<br/>Spanking/Paddling<br/>D/s<br/>Sex Toys<br/>Bondage</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Cockhead polishing</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the van on the way from the venue to the hotel, Louis’ fingers curl around Harry’s wrist. He doesn’t let go until it’s time to get out.</p>
<p>They stand a respectable distance apart in the lift, separated by the boys and two of their security team. Conversation flows, about the show, about a few signs the fans had brought, about whether they should have pizza or Thai for dinner tomorrow, about whether or not Niall had purposely stolen the last of Liam’s deodorant or whether he hadn’t realized it wasn’t his. Harry and Louis don’t make eye contact the entire way.</p>
<p>Their normal routine consists of meeting up in someone’s room on the nights they have a hotel, after everyone’s showered and changed for food and games and, if they’re feeling it, drinks. The security cameras on the floor they’ve rented out aren’t off - they’re never off - and Harry maintains that bit of space between them even as they go into the same room, him and Louis. It gives an illusion of distance that hasn’t existed since the beginning.</p>
<p>Louis barely waits for the door to finish closing behind them before he’s stripping his shirt off over his head, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. “You want first shower?” he asks, kicking the material away a bit, enough that he can toe his shoes off next. Harry watches him do it, thinks <i>no</i>.</p>
<p>“No,” he says aloud, stopped in the middle of the room as though he’s been stuck there.</p>
<p>“Fair enough,” Louis says, shrugging, hands going to work on getting his fly undone so he can shuck his jeans next.</p>
<p>No. That’s not what Harry meant. He crosses the room to stand behind Louis, the heat of their bodies melting together, and bends his head to nuzzle the skin behind Louis’ ear. “No,” he repeats.</p>
<p>Louis’ hands go still, fly still mostly done up. “Oh,” he says knowingly, a little breathlessly. “Well, we could always save water by showering together.”</p>
<p>Deliberately obtuse. He’s being deliberately obtuse. And for the record, they’ve never managed to <i>save</i> water by showering together.</p>
<p>Harry wants to wrap him up in his arms and hold him tight, force them to fuck like that, with no room left between their bodies, no air between them they’re not sharing. Instead, he lets go altogether, taking a step back. </p>
<p>“Do you know what you look like to me?” Harry asks conversationally, taking another step back, then another, until his legs hit the bed, and then he sinks down into it, already feeling like he can’t support himself anymore.</p>
<p>Louis twists to look at him over his shoulder, but he doesn’t turn around. It puts the line of his back on display, lithe and tanned caramel, and Harry’s always had a hard time choosing his favourite part of Louis’ body but right now he thinks it might be his back.</p>
<p>“Like something you want to eat right up?” Louis asks, smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, and Harry likes that game, likes playing that game, and they both know it, but right now, right now that’s not what he wants. Right now he doesn’t want to play any kind of game at all.</p>
<p>“Bring me the paddle,” Harry says simply.</p>
<p>The cocksure expression on Louis’ face drops right off. He turns around completely, twisting his hands together like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “Harry,” he says slowly, settling his hands in front of him with his fingers linked. “That’s - we’re not going to make it to Niall’s if we do that.”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t care about making it to Niall’s room. They’ve been doing this long enough to know that if Harry and Louis don’t make it back they shouldn’t come knocking.</p>
<p>“Bring me the paddle,” Harry repeats. His own fingers itch in his lap, the urge to touch, to scratch and bruise and grip overwhelming.</p>
<p>Louis’ expression wavers a little more, but he goes to Harry’s bag and digs through it, pulls out the paddle, crossing the room again in his bare feet, dropping it in Harry’s lap.</p>
<p>A little bit of the tightness in Harry’s chest unwinds. “Good,” he murmurs, cupping Louis’ face with both hands and drawing him down to his knees, between Harry’s thighs, kissing him slow and easy.</p>
<p>He can feel it when the answering tension in Louis’ body starts unwinding as well, matching Harry’s own.</p>
<p>It’s always hard to make himself stop kissing Louis before he’s good and ready. Now is no exception. Harry manages, though, somehow, nipping at Louis’ bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away, drawing a low, hurt noise out of Louis as he goes.</p>
<p>That’s okay. Harry’s going to hurt him a lot more before this night is through.</p>
<p>“You didn’t tell me,” Louis says shakily, hands on Harry’s knees, pressing down hard. “What I look like to you.”</p>
<p>He looks like everything to Harry. He looks like lust and light and sun and desire and love and a thousand other things Harry wouldn’t be able to name if he spent the rest of his life trying.</p>
<p>“<i>Sin</i>,” Harry answers, and is rewarded with the slow curve of Louis’ smile. “Tell me what you think I’m going to do to you.”</p>
<p>There’s a thrill that goes through Harry’s belly as he says the words. They’re the words he always says when they do this, a pattern that formed from the very first time, and he says them differently now than he did then, but the meaning has always been the same.</p>
<p>Sometimes Louis gets it right, guesses what Harry’s fingers have been itching to do for hours. Sometimes he gets it wrong, says something that must have been on his own brain for hours, and those times Harry carefully tucks away the words in the back of his brain for the next time, intent upon using them. It doesn’t really matter what Louis says - if Harry’s saying the words he’s already got a plan - so much as it matters that Louis gives the green light. In one way or another.</p>
<p>“You’re going to spank me,” Louis says, fingers curling harder on Harry’s knees, digging into the bones. Harry doesn’t wince. “Get me naked and put me bare arsed over your lap, hit me until I can’t stop sobbing out your name, make me come all over your jeans and then suck all of it out of the denim, make me curl my tongue around your cock through two layers for hours until you come too.”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t blink. Louis has always had an impressively dirty mouth. Harry’s had time to get used to it. </p>
<p>“And then?” he prompts. His voice doesn’t waver, strong and true, but his pulse thunders through his veins, skin hot to the touch. Saying that Louis doesn’t affect him would be a blatant lie - Harry can hold it together, make Louis squirm from how well he holds it together, but his cock will always rise to the occasion, insistent upon getting what it wants.</p>
<p>“And then,” Louis says, swallowing. His voice does waver. “And then you’ll tell me to peel your jeans down, fish your cock out of your pants, make me suck you until you’re hard again, taste of your come in the back of my throat, fuck my face slow and hard until I can’t take it anymore, until I’m crying again, tears wetting my cheeks, and you won’t stop until you’re finished with me.”</p>
<p>Well that’s a lovely visual. He’s wrong, but he’s got Harry’s cock dripping in his pants, trapped and aching. “And do I let you come again?” he asks, gripping a handful of hair at the nape of Louis’ neck and tugging, pulling until the line of his throat is exposed, vulnerable.</p>
<p>Louis swallows again, harder this time, throat bobbing with the movement. “I don’t know,” he says, gasping, shoulders twisting. There’s tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, and they’re not from how hard Harry’s gripping him.</p>
<p>He cries during sex. It’s always made Harry want to bite him just a little harder.</p>
<p>“Baby,” Harry murmurs, rubbing at Louis’ cheekbone with his other hand, at the place where his tears usually fall when he lets them flow over. “That’s not what I’m going to do.”</p>
<p>Louis has an impressively dirty mouth, that’s very true. But there’s always a point at which he can’t keep going, and that’s the point where Harry takes over.</p>
<p>That point is usually when he says <i>I don’t know</i>.</p>
<p>“You’re going to take off your jeans,” Harry says, watching the tremble of Louis’ bottom lip, the heave of his chest. “Climb into my lap like a good little boy, take your spanking, cry out my name, and get your come all over my jeans.”</p>
<p>Louis’ eyelashes flutter as he blinks, struggling to get himself under control. Harry doesn’t have to look down to know he’s hard. They both are. “And then?”</p>
<p>“And then I’m going to rub your sweet little cockhead until you can’t stand it,” Harry says unforgivingly. “Do you know why?”</p>
<p>“Because you want to hurt me?” Louis says shakily, arms starting to tremble as he tries to hold himself in position. The ache to just let himself topple forwards until he face plants in Harry’s lap so he can get his mouth filled is a visible one, evident in his darkened eyes, the sweat gleaming in the hollow of his throat.</p>
<p>He won’t. He’s a good boy, Harry’s good boy, and a great sub, and while that doesn’t always translate to obeying, this time it will. Harry’s sure of it. As much as Louis wants that, wants cock stuffed down his throat, bruising his face, he knows he’s not going to get it until Harry lets him have it.</p>
<p>“I do want to hurt you,” Harry agrees, tugging at Louis’ hair again. Louis’ mouth drops open, just a bit, biting back a whine. “But you know the real reason I’m going to do this to you. Tell me.”</p>
<p>“Because,” Louis says shakily, blinking wet blue eyes up at Harry, and Harry is so far gone that he can’t even tell whether it’s sincere or not at this point, “Because you love me.”</p>
<p>Almost. It’s almost the reason, and Harry’s cock is so hard, wants relief so badly it’s close enough. “Because I’m <i>in</i> love with you,” he corrects, gentling his touch, just a little, “and you knew what you were asking for when you put your fingers on my wrist in the car.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Louis whispers, those tears finally spilling over as Harry kisses him again, so much gentler than his grip on Louis’ neck.</p>
<p>The wrist thing is - it’s a sign. Half the time Harry is pretty sure that Louis doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until afterwards, until this very moment. In a van with tinted windows no one could see in to, they could have held hands. They could have kissed, even, been intimate in ways that have nothing to do with sex, and Louis chose to grip Harry’s wrist instead. It’s what he does when it’s been too long since they’ve done this, and his itch needs to be scratched.</p>
<p>It took Harry a while to figure out that particular tell.</p>
<p>The kiss is shorter this time, sweeter, but no less loving. Again, Harry is the one who breaks it, never really gone from that dom-space but pushing himself wholly back into it anyway. It’s inextricable, this part of their relationship with how they feel about each other, and that makes it burn so much hotter sometimes, so much that it can be hard to handle.</p>
<p>“Strip,” Harry says, letting go of Louis’ neck. “Slow.”</p>
<p>The flush on Louis’ face deepens as he stands, pushing himself to his feet laboriously because Harry has no intention of helping him. It’s not always like this when they have sex, but they have always tended to stray towards the rougher side, even before any of this started. They’ve come a long way in five years.</p>
<p>Louis’ hands don’t shake as he shimmies himself out of his jeans, bending over to pick them up, arse right in Harry’s face like he’s asking to be slapped already. Harry doesn’t. He has control, even when he has to cling to it like it’s a lifeline, and he always does what he tells Louis he’s going to do. Even when the best laid plans suddenly seem pale in comparison to the option of just rutting against Louis mindlessly until he comes.</p>
<p>Once the jeans are folded up and placed neatly on the bed - because Harry has taught him right, even if the only time he’ll do it is during times like these - Louis goes for his pants, shimmying even slower, baring his hipbones, skin, until his cock pops out, leaking and angry at being neglected for so long.</p>
<p>“Pretty boy,” Harry says admiringly, leaning back in his chair, waiting for Louis to pick up the pants and fold them with the same amount of care before putting them with his jeans.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Louis says quietly, tucking his hands together and waiting for his next instruction.</p>
<p>“C’mere, baby,” Harry murmurs, patting his lap invitingly. Louis’ eyes are dark and wanting as he settles himself into place, arse up in Harry’s lap, hips nestled on Harry’s thighs, arms under his chin. </p>
<p>The paddle is lying beside Harry on the bed, waiting to be used. Harry ignores it for now, running a hand over the bare curve of Louis’ arse, squeezing a cheek gently. “How long has it <br/>been since you had something inside of you?”</p>
<p>When they’re on tour, it can be hard to find the time for sex, much less this type of sex, the kind that’s time consuming and intensely private. Sometimes Harry’s resentful of the fact that he has his significant other already with him and there’s still times he has to have a wank instead of having sex. </p>
<p>He knows that Louis does, too. Most often in the shower in the mornings - or what counts for mornings with their lifestyle - or in his bunk when they don’t have a hotel at night. Those nights Harry can hear him whimpering quietly, making noises into his own arm as he gets himself off. </p>
<p>Sometimes Harry thinks about forbidding it, making it an order, listening to Louis come above him with his own cock hard in his shorts.</p>
<p>Most of the time Harry doesn’t. Most of the time.</p>
<p>And just like he knows that Louis jerks off, he also knows that sometimes, those mornings in the shower, Louis jerks off with two fingers stuffed inside his arse, riding his own hand as he gets himself off.</p>
<p>“I,” Louis gasps, shifting restlessly on Harry’s lap, and Harry picks up the paddle, bringing it down four times on Louis’ arse sharply, not bothering to work his way up to it.</p>
<p>It’s the wrong answer. Harry knows it was this morning, heard it over the running water. Louis always sounds different when he’s got something in his arse, a little more desperate.</p>
<p>“I heard you, baby,” Harry says, bringing the paddle down again. “This morning in the shower. Think you deserve to lick up my come after a stunt like that?”</p>
<p>He switches cheeks, raining down six blow in rapid succession. Louis cries out, fingers flexing <br/>against the sheets, hips squirming as Harry hits him.</p>
<p>“No, I - ” he says, and Harry knows it’s unfair to keep hitting him when he’s trying to explain himself, trying to give Harry the answer he asked for.</p>
<p>Harry keeps hitting him. He doesn’t care whether Louis had his own pretty fingers up his arse while he was coming this morning - wishes he had been able to see it, though - but part of this is making Louis feel like he’s in trouble for something. Spanking has always been a guilty pleasure for Louis, with an emphasis on the guilty. It doesn’t matter whether he’s actually done something wrong or not, when he’s being spanked he wants to feel like he’s being punished.</p>
<p>“Mm, yeah, you were,” Harry says, slapping Louis’ arse another two times. It’s going a deep pink, probably blisteringly hot. The paddle’s too big for anything other than spanking the cheeks, which is a shame. Suddenly Harry wants to pry Louis’ cheeks apart and spank his hole for a bit.</p>
<p>Next time.</p>
<p>Louis has started sniffling, letting out little <i>uh uh uhs</i> every time the paddle connects with his skin, sounds that mean he’s going to start crying soon. Harry’s cock throbs harder, pre-come pooling in his shorts.</p>
<p>He stops. Louis makes another noise, a full blown whimper that shoots directly to Harry’s cock. <br/>“You were being a little slut this morning, weren’t you, baby,” Harry says, pinching the back of Louis’ neck to make sure he has his attention. “Just wanted to sit on something, get your arse nice and full, but didn’t wanna risk it, huh? Had to settle for your own fingers playing with your empty little hole.”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Louis sobs out, every part of him boneless on Harry’s lap except his cock. “Harry, I - ”</p>
<p>“Shh,” Harry says, rubbing the spot on Louis’ neck he’d pinched soothingly. “You wanna make it up to me, baby?”</p>
<p>Louis’ nod is frantic, half buried in his arms. Harry tells himself to remember how to breathe, that his turn is coming soon. “Gonna be a good boy and put your cock between my legs tight, then, sweetheart, aren’t you.”</p>
<p>It’s not a question. Harry wouldn’t know how to phrase it like a question even if he tried, and he doesn’t try.</p>
<p>“Gonna hurt,” Louis croaks out. He sounds like he wants to sound miserable, like the thought of it is something he doesn’t want to want.</p>
<p>Harry can tell he wants it. “Yeah, baby, it is,” he says, humming the words out and drawing his hand down Louis’ spine softly.</p>
<p>It’s slow, the way Louis moves. Adjusting himself, shuffling down a little until he can press his cock between Harry’s legs, the rough denim of his jeans scraping Louis’  cock.</p>
<p>That’s the entire point. Harry’s so turned on it’s incredible, and he doesn’t waste any more time bringing the paddle down on Louis’ arse again and again and again.</p>
<p>It only takes take more strokes for Louis to start begging in earnest. “Harry, please,” he says, and, “Wanna come, please let me come,” and then, after a few more slaps, just Harry’s name over and over again, hoarse and wet.</p>
<p>“Okay, baby, you can come,” Harry says, his voice liquid, frayed at the edges. He knows Louis is crying without needing to see it, and it’s going to be so fucking pretty when he finally does get to see it.</p>
<p>Louis comes, wailing out syllables that are meant to be Harry’s name, sobbing and loud, and he’s nowhere near calm as Harry rolls him over the second he’s finished. Face flushed and wet, eyes red rimmed and a little puffy, he’s easily the most gorgeous thing Harry’s ever seen.</p>
<p>“Good boy,” he says, curling his fingers around Louis’ cock, his palm over the head, already rubbing it. Louis gasps, arching like he can’t tell whether he wants to get away or get more, lashes fluttering.</p>
<p>“Please,” he says, “please, please, please - ”</p>
<p>Harry knows what he’s begging for. Cock, plain and simple. Wants to put his mouth on Harry’s cock and close his eyes, let Harry fuck his face however he wants, wants to be molded into whatever shape Harry chooses. And Harry wants that too, loves the feeling of Louis’ throat around him, warm and wet and sucking.</p>
<p>They’re not done here yet, though. Not yet.</p>
<p>“Shh,” he tells Louis, rubbing his cockhead harder, enjoying the pained noise he makes. “Soon.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Prostate Massage</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It starts with a video.</p>
<p>Actually, it starts the first time Louis admits that he doesn’t want to be the one making the decisions when they have sex.</p>
<p>Actually, it starts in the toilets at the X-Factor auditions, but that’s in more of a general sense. This particular idea starts with a video Louis sends him one day when Harry’s been in L.A. for about a week and Louis has been bumming around in London. Louis’ been sending increasingly dramatic pictures of himself looking sad and pouty, trying to entice Harry into catching a plane back to London, despite the fact that he knows Harry’s only there because he’s got obligations to fulfill.</p>
<p>Anyway. This particular video is a little gem of a thing, four and a half minutes of Louis rolling around naked in the middle of their bed with three of his own fingers stuffed up his arse. It’s not the first time Harry’s gotten a dirty video from him. It’s not even the first time Harry’s gotten a dirty video from him that week, and they’re always something to be enjoyed, watching Louis get himself off. Most of the time they’re longer, though, and Louis doesn’t get off until he’s got his fingers slipping up and down his cock.</p>
<p>The difference with this video is that it’s four minutes of Louis rolling around on their bed fingering himself and giving Harry a frankly gorgeous show, and then thirty seconds of making himself come and then lying there stunned.</p>
<p>Louis is excellent at making himself come. He’s had plenty of practice, after all, and while Harry likes to think that he’s better at it there’s no denying that Louis knows his own body and what gets him off.</p>
<p>So watching him come like that, so unexpectedly, so abruptly, without laying a single finger on his cock, it gets Harry thinking.</p>
<p>It also gets Harry coming, but that’s to be expected.</p>
<p>If theirs was a different relationship maybe Harry would be thinking about making Louis come untouched on his cock. It’s not, though, and while Harry also thinks that he watches a normal amount of porn for a bloke his age - videos from Louis non-withstanding, because if those count he probably watches a lot more porn than is average - there’s one he can’t stop thinking about.</p>
<p>He does a bit more research, chewing absently at a knuckle, and orders something that seems just right, making sure to click the button for overnight delivery.</p>
<p>Then he gets on a plane.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry doesn’t tell Louis he’s coming back, but Louis must find out one way or another, because he’s waiting for Harry at the front door, lying on the floor with his feet up on the wall, just far enough away from the door that Harry doesn’t immediately trip over him.</p>
<p>There’s a joke to be made here about dogs waiting for their owners, but if Harry ever wants to get laid again he shouldn’t make it.</p>
<p>Instead, he drops his bag in the middle of the hallway, closes and locks the door behind himself, and then drops down on top of Louis without really bothering to hold back, startling a squeak out of him.</p>
<p>“Baby,” Harry says, rubbing his nose along Louis’ jawline, along the scruff he’s got going. He feels punch drunk and stupid, repeating <i>baby</i> a few more times before lining up their mouths and kissing Louis sloppily. Louis messes up the kiss by laughing, so that’s how they get off, giggling and stupid.</p>
<p>So that’s Harry’s first day home.</p>
<p>The next day, the package comes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Harry,” Louis whines, draping himself across Harry’s back and pushing himself up onto his tiptoes, trying to see around his shoulder. “Harry, can I open it?”</p>
<p>The package is lying innocently on the kitchen counter, two feet away. Harry ignores it and keeps stirring his sauce. If he doesn’t it’ll burn. “No.”</p>
<p>Louis’ pout is probably very becoming. Harry doesn’t turn around to see it. “What is it, then? Is it something for me?”</p>
<p>“No,” Harry repeats, turning the heat down.</p>
<p>“So it <i>is</i> for me, then,” Louis says, satisfied, and peels himself off Harry’s back to go and poke at the bread lying on the counter beside the package. He’s not being very subtle about the way he’s eyeing the box, as if he’s trying to determine its measurements and figure out what it is that way.</p>
<p>Harry takes the sauce off the stove and pours it over the pasta, using just enough that it’ll blend in nicely. “Well, if you want it you have to be a very good boy and eat your dinner,” he says mildly, reaching for the cheese.</p>
<p>“Am I ever not a good boy?” Louis demands, pinching Harry’s arm. Harry hands him the bowl of pasta and then swats at his arse.</p>
<p>“Go sit,” he orders, swatting again when Louis doesn’t go right away.</p>
<p>Dinner is quick and easy, and they load up the dishwasher just as quickly - more quickly than normal, because Louis is all but bouncing on the balls of his feet, making his presence known loudly. As if Harry could ever forget that he’s there.</p>
<p>“Go to the bedroom,” Harry says finally, letting his fingers rest on Louis’ wrist. “Strip. I’ll be there in a minute.”</p>
<p>“In a minute minute or in a Harry minute?” Louis asks.</p>
<p>Harry slaps his arse hard enough to get him going, scampering off down the hallway quickly. He has to take a minute after he’s opened the package to catch his breath, already imagining how Louis is going to look with it inside him.</p>
<p>His cock is blood heavy by the time he pushes himself off the counter and makes his own way down the hall, toy in hand. Louis is sprawled out in the middle of their bed, completely naked and rubbing his fingers together restlessly. “So what is it?” he asks immediately, reaching out.</p>
<p>Harry takes a minute to put the toy down on the dresser, making sure it’s obstructed from Louis’ view, and digs through the top drawer for the rope he stashed in there before he went to L.A. It’s in a slightly different spot than it was when he left, which can only mean that Louis has been touching it, but that’s okay. As long as he’s not actually tying himself up Harry doesn’t really care what he does with it.</p>
<p>That doesn’t mean that he’s not going to say anything about it, though. “Have you been touching my things?” he asks conversationally, removing the rope from the drawer and letting it snap against his fingers, the sound echoing in the room.</p>
<p>He doesn’t have to be facing Louis to know he’s trying to resist a shiver. “No,” Louis denies.</p>
<p>Harry turns around and leans against the dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. He doesn’t move, and he doesn’t say anything, watching Louis fidget restlessly on the bed, rubbing his feet against the sheets and twisting his fingers together.</p>
<p>“I just wanted to look,” Louis blurts out, picking at the edge of his thumbnail. “You said I could look.”</p>
<p>“So why was it in a different place, then?” Harry asks, drifting a few steps towards the bed. “If you only wanted to look.”</p>
<p>“I look with my hands,” Louis says immediately, reaching out. Harry has no idea what he’s reaching for but he grabs his hands anyway, sitting down on the side of the bed.</p>
<p>“Yeah? So what are you gonna do when I tie them up?” Harry asks softly, stroking his fingers over the backs of Louis’ hands. Louis is completely naked but there’s still too many clothes separating them, Harry’s t-shirt and pants in between their bare skin.</p>
<p>If he takes off his pants Louis might get distracted by his cock, though. It would be a lose-lose situation if it wasn’t sex with Louis. That’s always win-win, no matter what.</p>
<p>“You’re gonna tie them up?” Louis asks breathlessly, hands soft and unresisting in Harry’s. Harry kisses the back of one of them.</p>
<p>“Not only am I gonna tie you up, I’m gonna let you have your present,” Harry tells him, kissing the inside of his wrist this time.</p>
<p>Louis’ shiver is full body. “Please,” he says eagerly, limbs lax and unresisting in Harry’s hands. Harry could probably do anything to him right now and he would just say <i>please</i> in that breathy little voice.</p>
<p>That would probably be dangerous if Harry didn’t want to do only the best things for him. Also if they hadn’t had a million discussions about what each of them wants and also a safeword. But. You know. Semantics.</p>
<p>“Alright, baby,” Harry murmurs, taking the rope off his lap and beginning to loop it around Louis’ wrists. He stays perfectly still for it, staring down at it with unblinking eyes. The air between them feels hot and muggy and Harry wants to kiss him more than anything, wants the taste of Louis’ mouth underneath his, wants to swallow his whimpers. First he’s got to finish tying Louis’ wrists together - can’t go getting distracted by gorgeous mouths. Must be a good dom.</p>
<p>It feels like it takes forever, tying Louis’ wrists together, leaving enough of the rope that he’ll be able to tie them to the headboard. It does take a couple of minutes, all told. Louis is exactly the type of sub to try to squirm his way out of the knots. Whether it’s intentional or not Harry can never tell - he’s disobedient enough on a regular basis to think that it is, but at the same time Harry’s pretty sure there’s no one in the entire world who would go under for him so beautifully. It’s not even that Louis fights it, really. He just - he makes Harry work for it.</p>
<p>Sometimes he tells Harry that he has the patience of a saint, afterwards, flushed and sweaty and happy, curling up as close as he can get. Usually after he’s spent at least ten minutes fighting him, refusing to give Harry his wrists or get on his knees or whatever else it was Harry told him to do.</p>
<p>Harry’s never felt it, though. Never felt like it takes a lot of patience to get Louis to give in. He relishes every minute the same way Louis does. Maybe a little bit differently, but. Still. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” Louis says, dazed, once Harry’s finally finished, pressing a kiss just over where the rope is pressed into his skin.</p>
<p>So it’s going to be easy this time, then. He probably wants his present.</p>
<p>“You’re very welcome,” Harry says, finally, <i>finally</i> leaning down to kiss him, slow and gentle, not letting go of Louis’ wrists.</p>
<p>It lasts longer than it probably should, judging from the way Louis is squirming underneath him. Harry can’t exactly be blamed when Louis has a mouth like he does.</p>
<p>It breaks eventually because it has to. “Up,” Harry directs, helping Louis lift his arms up over his head so the rope can get attached to the headboard. Louis is practically vibrating now, barely resisting the urge to pull his hands down, so good for Harry even though he has to try. Even though he has to work at it.</p>
<p>“You’re so good,” Harry tells him, running a hand down the length of Louis’ arm, down his shoulder and over his collarbone. If this were another day Harry might grip him by the neck, rough him up a bit. It’s not, though, so he pushes himself up off the bed and grabs the toy off of the dresser, pausing for a few seconds to shed himself of his clothes before heading back.</p>
<p>“Hurry up,” Louis says impatiently, Harry’s lovely pushy boy.</p>
<p>Harry takes all sort of shit from him - teasing, joking, snottiness, brattiness, yelling, anger, whatever. Like this he doesn’t. When they do this Harry’s in charge and that’s the way it is. Louis can mouth off as much as he wants, so long as he doesn’t expect Harry to just stand around and take it.</p>
<p>“Manners,” Harry says mildly, dropping the toy onto the bed and laying a single smack to Louis’ thigh, just above his knee.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Louis asks, even as he’s trying to jerk away from the sting. “My present. Harry. Can I have it now? Please?”</p>
<p>It’s marginally polite, and Harry has been waiting what feels like forever to watch the way Louis reacts to this. “Yeah, baby,” Harry says, rummaging through the bedside table until he pulls out the lube. “Just gonna open you up a little, first.”</p>
<p>“Is it a toy, then?” Louis asks, nearly demanding it even as he lets Harry crook his knee, rubbing a finger around his hole quickly before he lubes up his fingers and starts pressing one in.</p>
<p>“You’ll see,” Harry answers, concentrating on the feel of Louis’ hole clinging to his finger, tight and hot. He opens up quick and easy around two of Harry’s fingers, and that’s all Harry’s gonna give him. That’s all he needs.</p>
<p>“Now?” Louis asks breathlessly, tugging at the ropes as if they’re gonna give. “Am I gonna see now?”</p>
<p>Actually, <i>Harry’s</i> gonna see now. But if it’ll make Louis happy. “Yeah, baby.”</p>
<p>“Is it a vibrator?” Louis asks, craning his head, trying to see. Harry gives him another slap, lighter this time, just because he can.</p>
<p>“Not quite,” he answers, picking up the toy and examining it, still mostly hidden from Louis’ view. “You remember that link you sent me? The one where the guy comes like, non-stop?”</p>
<p>“What?” Louis asks blankly, grinding down against the bed as if Harry’s fingers are still in him.</p>
<p>Easily distracted, Harry’s boy is. Harry gives him an even gentler slap to get him to pay attention. Louis makes a hurt little noise and stills, blinking up at Harry with big, blue eyes. “The video where the guy makes himself come non-stop,” Harry repeats. “You remember it?”</p>
<p>Louis licks his lips, planting his feet flat on the bed, a clear invitation if Harry’s ever seen one. “I sent you that video like three weeks ago.”</p>
<p>He sent a video of himself wanking at the same time. Harry can’t exactly be blamed for being distracted by the more beautiful one. “Watched it, though,” Harry tells him, rubbing his palm over the slightly reddened skin where he’d slapped Louis. “Thought about you.”</p>
<p>“So that’s it, then?” Louis asks. Harry can hear the skepticism in his voice. “Bought me a toy like the one in the video?”</p>
<p>Actually, the present is making him come like the guy in that video, but if he can’t figure that out himself Harry’s not gonna tell him. “Gonna find out, aren’t you baby?” Harry asks, lubing up the toy quickly, efficiently. He’s very efficient when it comes to lubing up things that are going to make Louis come.</p>
<p>“Looks like,” Louis says softly. Harry lays a kiss to the inside of his thigh, settling himself comfortably in between his spread legs.</p>
<p>“You ready?” Harry asks, nudging one of Louis’ thighs up a little higher so he has a proper line of sight, and doesn’t wait for an answer before starting to push the toy inside. Louis’ eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, nearly closed. He doesn’t react any differently, at least not at first.</p>
<p>Harry has firsthand knowledge of exactly where his prostate is, though, and he’s about to use that experience to his advantage. To both of their advantages.</p>
<p>“Think you got ripped off, Haz,” Louis says, planting a foot against Harry’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Maybe Harry should have tied his ankles, too. He wouldn’t have as good of a view, though, and he believes in aesthetics over not being kicked. “Nah,” he says easily, twisting the toy and drawing it out a little, flicking on the vibrations, and that’s all it takes for the first spurt of thin, watery come to pulse out.</p>
<p>Louis inhales sharply, back arching up off of the bed and foot slipping over Harry’s shoulder. Harry follows him, pressing up again, and is rewarded with another spurt of come and Louis’ mouth dropping right open.</p>
<p>“Stop,” he says weakly, arms twisting as he pulls at the bindings uselessly. “Stop, Harry, I don’t - “ he trails off.</p>
<p>“You don’t like it?” Harry asks, pushing the toy in all the way. “You know what to say if you really want me to stop.”</p>
<p>Louis wets his lips, head lolling on the pillow. He doesn’t say anything, just whimpers a little as Harry pulls the toy out again, only to push it back in just as quickly. He definitely doesn’t say the only word that would actually get Harry to stop instantly, without question.</p>
<p>“That’s what I thought,” Harry says, satisfied, and goes about milking the rest of the come out of Louis’ body, coaxing out pulse after pulse easily while Louis whines and twists and tugs at the ropes, completely at Harry’s mercy.</p>
<p>Or lack thereof.</p>
<p>It’s fascinating, watching the come dribble out of Louis’ cock as if he can’t stop it. Also hot. “You’re so pretty, baby,” Harry tells him, flicking his thumb over the head of Louis’ cock just once. Louis gasps, squeezing his eyes closed and turning his entire face into his arm the best he can. More come dribbles out of him, pretty little belly so messy.</p>
<p>By the end of it he’s wet and weak, limp and exhausted, and Harry’s not sure that his own cock has ever been harder in his entire life.</p>
<p>He’s covered in his own come, Louis, and he looks used, shivering and pliant, making tiny little noises like he can’t stop himself.</p>
<p>“God,” Harry sighs, rubbing at his cock a little. “Look so good, baby. Look at the mess you made of yourself, can barely believe it.” He rubs his fingers through the mess on Louis’ belly, spreading it around, rubbing it in a little.</p>
<p>“Messy,” Louis slurs, watching Harry through half-open eyes. Harry uses his free hand to start tugging the toy out of Louis’ hole, earning himself one more weak dribble of come. “Empty.”</p>
<p>Harry pauses, toy still in bad. “Empty good or empty bad?” he asks, because sometimes when Louis says <i>empty</i> he means that he wants something in him, and other times he’s just making an observation.</p>
<p>Louis considers this carefully. “Bad,” he decides.</p>
<p>“Well, you’ve got a couple of options,” Harry tells him, slicking some of the come over Louis’ empty balls. “Fingers, toy or cock. You’re probably not going to end up coming on any of them, though, not with the mess you’ve already made.”</p>
<p>“Cock,” Louis says, but he doesn’t even take a second to think about it, probably just echoing it because it was the only word he was paying attention to.</p>
<p>Harry could give him cock, fuck him as fast or as slow as he wants, and Louis would only gasp and moan for it, for the feeling of Harry inside of him. He wouldn’t be all there for it, though, and if Harry’s gonna fuck him he wants him to be present for at least some of it. Plus he’d probably just get inside and pop off in like ten seconds or so.</p>
<p>“You’re just being greedy again,” Harry tells him, pushing the toy back inside of him smoothly. Louis doesn’t protest or beg for something different, which is what he’d do if he really wanted Harry’s cock, so Harry pushes himself up onto his knees and gets himself over Louis’ belly, starts stroking himself fast and sure, using a little bit of lube to slick the way.</p>
<p>Getting himself off will never be as good as getting Louis to help him. Harry fumbles around for a second, getting one of Louis’ wrists loose and pulling his hand down to curl around his cock, leaving his own hand over top of it as he strokes himself off, making sure their fingers linger on the head.</p>
<p>It barely takes any time at all for Harry to come, getting Louis’ belly even wetter. He almost feels as fucked out as Louis looks, still holding onto Harry’s cock loosely. Previous experience has taught Harry that he won’t let go until Harry tells him to, content to lie there just holding Harry’s cock, and Harry doesn’t mind it, necessarily, but after a while he gets sensitive.</p>
<p>Louis is still making noises, little ones that are barely audible, a reaction to the toy still being shoved up inside him. His cock is lying limp against his thigh, twitching occasionally, thighs practically trembling.</p>
<p>“You’re so good, baby,” Harry murmurs, peeling Louis’ fingers off one by one, until his cock is free. “Took it so well, so beautiful.” He leaves Louis’ other wrist tied for the moment, so he can ease the toy out gently, toss it to the side, and then leans back down to give Louis one more kiss before he starts loosening the knots.</p>
<p>The second he’s free, Louis’ wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and pulling him back in for another kiss, uncaring of the come drying on his skin. Uncaring of how messy he’s making Harry by default.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t really care either. They snog for several slow, blissful minutes, until Harry’s back starts to protest in earnest, and even then Harry only breaks the kiss to roll them into a more comfortable position, picking up right where they left off. They’ll probably wake up glued together if this keeps up, but it doesn’t matter.</p>
<p>Best idea ever. Harry’s already thinking about making Louis use the toy on himself in the morning so he’ll have an even better view.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Overstimulation + Cock Ring</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After the fifth time it happens, Louis gets a little tired of it. Don’t get him wrong, the sex is still good - the sex is still <i>amazing</i> - but he’d like to know what it feels like to come on Harry’s cock instead of just his fingers or a toy.</p>
<p>Maybe it’s a combination of stress and exhaustion, but it only takes one more time of Harry coming just the tiniest bit too early for Louis to get the idea.</p>
<p>He orders it a little maniacally at four o’clock in the morning, clicking so frantically that it’s almost like he thinks he just has to order it for it to magically appear. It doesn’t, obviously, but he crashes after he’s ordered it and sleeps really fucking well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time that it actually comes, he’s more than ready to put it to use. There’s only so long he can reasonably be expected to settle for coming on a fake plastic cock, he thinks, and Harry’s apologetic about it every time but eventually enough is enough.</p>
<p>There’s no way that he can wait, not once he’s got it in his possession, so the second they call it quits for the day, meetings and everything over with, Louis’ dragging Harry back to the hotel room, not even stopping to say goodnight to the boys.</p>
<p>Harry’s a little bemused, but he follows easily enough, opening his mouth to spout some foolishness once Louis has got them inside. Louis ignores him, fishing through his bag until he comes out with a bottle of lube and the cockring, then starts ridding himself of his clothes, letting them fall wherever they want.</p>
<p>It’s not until Louis is standing in the middle of the room completely naked that Harry gets it. “What’s that?” he asks weakly, fists clenching at his sides.</p>
<p>“This is to help you make me feel good,” he says, crossing over to the bed and crawling up on it, waving his arse a little more than strictly necessary. He flops down into the pillows and turns to look at Harry. “Don’t you want to make me feel good?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Harry says immediately, joining Louis on the bed like Louis has pulled him there. “That’s all I want, for you to feel good.”</p>
<p>Louis swallows and fists his own cock, giving it some much needed attention. “So get to it, then,” he says, holding out the cockring. Harry takes it, fingers fumbling a little, and puts it on the bed while he strips himself of his clothes, baring his skin a little at a time. It’s like a striptease except Harry doesn’t even seem to realize that he’s doing it.</p>
<p>“So like, it just goes on?” Harry asks, and Louis doesn’t actually know the answer but he beckons Harry closer and between the two of them they figure it out anyway, handful of hot hard cock ready to go.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Louis announces, tugging at Harry’s arms so he’ll follow Louis back down into the pillows, big and warm on top of him. “Let’s go, then. I’m ready, are you ready?”</p>
<p>Harry’s ready, it turns out, wasting no time in mouthing at Louis’ neck, sending his blood strumming through his veins. He’s always been a literal too liberal with his teeth, and he is now, biting at Louis’ neck until there’s bound to be a bruise blossoming there.</p>
<p>Louis likes it. Louis has always liked it, so he just arches up into it, trying not to gasp too loudly, tangling his hands in Harry’s hair and holding him there. His body feels like it’s turning into liquid, about to float away, and he has no idea how long Harry’s there for, giving him the mother of all lovebites. His cock is full and hard by the time he’s finished, rubbing his thumb over wet skin, examining his work.</p>
<p>“Proud of yourself, aren’t you,” Louis manages, trying to move his hips, get some friction going.</p>
<p>“Shh,” Harry murmurs, bringing his hand down to brush his thumb over Louis’ nipple, already peaked, and Louis hates that, hates being told to be quiet, but he’s too busy gasping to say anything about it. “Wanna play with you.”</p>
<p>What the hell. <i>What the hell</i>. Who said that it was okay for Harry to turn into this - this confident, knowing thing - just because he’s not in any danger of coming too soon. “Not yours to play with,” Louis denies, shifting up into Harry’s hands, already so easy for it, for him.</p>
<p>“Yeah you are,” Harry says easily, as if it’s something he knows without Louis having to tell him. “Gonna make you come.”</p>
<p>Before Louis has the chance to scoff and deny that it’s going to be that easy, Harry’s ducking down to mouth idly over Louis’ nipple, just idly and only in passing, but Louis still whimpers and sucks his stomach in, mouth dropping open.</p>
<p>It is only in passing, though, and Harry’s moving before Louis has even recovered from it, sucking his cock into his mouth easy as breathing, taking Louis all the way down to the root in less than five seconds.</p>
<p>Louis screams. There’s really no other way to describe it, loud and echoing in the room, and he’s never been more grateful for soundproofing in his entire life. Harry’s mouth is wet and warm and he swallows around Louis’ cock, and that’s all it takes. That’s literally all it takes before Louis is coming, thrashing on the bed and nearly knocking himself out.</p>
<p>He manages to catch his breath, somehow, but only because Harry pulls off and sweeps his fingers over Louis’ hipbones, sweet and gentle. Once Louis is able to see properly again, he notices that Harry’s still hard, cock standing up proudly and leaking at the tip.</p>
<p>His mouth waters a little. He wants it in him pretty much any way he can get it, but he really wants it in him one certain way. “You gonna fuck me anytime this century or did I buy that thing for nothing?”</p>
<p>Harry licks his lips and slips one hand down underneath Louis’ balls, grabbing a handful of his arse. “I’m gonna fuck you,” he promises, and Louis smiles at him, hitching a leg up to give him easier access, and then Harry adds, “Eventually.”</p>
<p>“What?” Louis asks, brows furrowing a bit. Harry only smiles guilelessly and ducks down farther, settling with his shoulders underneath Louis’ thighs. Louis moves for it automatically, belly already tightening up again, cock doing its best to get hard. “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>“You know what we’ve never done?” Harry asks conversationally. His breath hits Louis’ skin, warm and gusty. Louis represses a shiver and holds still, resisting the urge to pull away from it because if this is going where he thinks it’s going he wants it.</p>
<p>God, he wants it.</p>
<p>“I love your arse,” Harry continues, cutting through the fog in Louis’ head. “And it doesn’t seem fair that I’ve never had my mouth on it.”</p>
<p>“You do have a serious oral fixation,” Louis manages, trying not to squeeze Harry’s head right off from how much he wants it.</p>
<p>“Mmm,” Harry murmurs, and then he’s spreading Louis’ cheeks apart and just fucking <i>looking</i> at him or something, because he’s not moving, and Louis prides himself on not begging. He prides himself on being able to make <i>Harry</i> beg but he’s a split second away from crying with how much he wants it.</p>
<p>Luckily Harry licks him before that can actually happen, but it turns out that it doesn’t matter because fifteen seconds in Louis is crying with how fucking good it is anyway, twisting uselessly on the sheets and trying to bear down onto Harry’s mouth, trying to get him to stop teasing.</p>
<p>“Could fucking eat you out all night,” Harry sighs, holding him open further as he really goes at it, tongue dipping past Louis’ rim and properly into him.</p>
<p>Time lapses. Louis honestly wouldn’t be able to say how much time passes, but before he knows it he’s coming again, just from Harry’s slick wet tongue, eyelashes damp and voice shot. He’s been talking, he’s pretty sure - begging, more like - and he doesn’t know what he’s been saying but it’s been spurring Harry on.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Harry groans, moving out from between Louis’ thighs and swiping a couple of fingers through the come pooled on Louis’ belly. “This may have been the best thing you’ve ever bought in your life, Lou.”</p>
<p>Louis tries to answer. He really, really tries to answer, but all that comes out is a soft, unintelligible slur. His arms are weak, but he holds them up for Harry to slide into anyway, hugging him to his chest and mouthing at his hair because he can’t be arsed to move and find skin. Harry’s cock is hard against his belly, slipping easily because of how fucking wet Louis is, and in a minute he’ll reach down and get Harry off.</p>
<p>A cool finger nudges against his hole before that can happen. Louis twitches, and it slips inside of him easily, slick with what feels like lube. “Harry,” Louis says, and he means it as an admonishment but it comes out like a plea.</p>
<p>“Shh, shh,” Harry says, kissing the corner of Louis’ mouth. “I’ll be quick, baby, I promise. You still want it, yeah?”</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t even hesitate before nodding because yes, he does want it. He still wants it. Harry stays true to his word, fingering him open quickly, efficiently, but Louis is hard again by the time he’s finished rolling on a condom.</p>
<p>It’s a little weird, Louis thinks vaguely. Harry’s fucked him countless times and Louis has always been present for it, there in a way that he’s not right now, floating on a haze of good feelings and cock filling him up, and it’s almost incidental when he comes, listening to Harry murmur nonsense into his ear.</p>
<p>He misses it when Harry comes, probably slipping the cockring off, eyes closed while Harry just keeps fucking him, mostly gentle, and he’s practically asleep by the time Harry wipes him off and gets him underneath the covers, but he manages to curl his fingers around Harry’s wrist and mumble a <i>thank you</i>, and then he actually falls asleep with Harry’s mouth on his.</p>
<p>It probably was the best purchase that Louis has ever made.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Christmas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Fluff</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Doing promo can get kind of boring. Louis is nothing if not easily distracted – he can’t help it if he wanders away sometimes – so it really shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone when he starts messing around. To be fair, it’s not as though the other boys don’t get equally as distracted when they’re filming stuff. They all mess around a lot, and it means that they get in trouble together rather than just one of them earning a talking to.</p>
<p>By the time the actual bit for the shoot is ready to go, they’ve been hanging around for forty-five minutes doing nothing. Louis isn’t good at sitting still, so when they’re sat down at a table to do some gift wrapping, he’s antsy and a little irritated. It makes sense in his head to fuck up the process as much as possible.</p>
<p>He gets an appropriate amount of laughs for his efforts, jostling elbows with Niall as he folds the paper as messily as humanly possible, using an entire roll of tape in the process. When he’s done, the CD looks so mangled that he nearly can’t tell it’s a CD at all.</p>
<p>“Wow,” Harry remarks from across the table. His voice sounds like syrup, even slower than his usual cadence. Louis hasn’t been paying enough attention to him today to figure out whether he’s tired or just lazy. “That is – do you want some help re-wrapping it?”</p>
<p>Louis glances down at the CD in his hand and then back up at Harry’s face. Harry’s handsome, earnest face. He truly wants to lend Louis a hand, thinking that it’ll save Louis from embarrassing himself.</p>
<p>How he hasn’t yet realized that Louis doesn’t get embarrassed is a mystery to him.</p>
<p>“No thank you, Harold,” Louis says crisply. “I think me gift has been wrapped perfectly adequately. Right, Neil?"</p>
<p>"Absolutely," Niall agrees enthusiastically. It’s almost a shame, how well Louis has this band wrapped around his finger. But not really.</p>
<p>Harry’s face falls. It’s just a smidge, the tiniest amount. Louis probably wouldn’t have noticed it on anyone else, but it’s Harry, and Louis is very attuned with what Harry’s face looks like. It’s too nice of a face for Louis not to have noticed.</p>
<p>God, Louis wants to kiss him. It’s not the first time the thought has crossed his mind. He’s pretty sure Harry wants to kiss him too, but so far nothing has happened. Louis is beginning to get a little impatient about it.</p>
<p>“Aw, is poor little Harold getting stroppy?” Louis coos, standing up so quickly he knocks his chair over. It makes a loud, clattering noise against the concrete floor. Louis ignores it, already halfway around the table and climbing into Harry’s lap. There’s just as little space here as there was in Louis’ own chair, so it’s really no surprise when this one goes clattering over as well, this time with them still in it.</p>
<p>They don’t land as hard as they could, but Harry still makes a pained noise beneath him. Louis pats his face, checking for injuries.</p>
<p>“Lou,” Harry groans. It’s an admonishment, and Louis has never taken kindly to admonishments. He scowls, slapping at Harry’s face a little. Just a little.</p>
<p>Of course, that inevitably leads to the kind of play-fight that he really only gets into with Harry, rolling around on the floor, mucking up their nicely pressed clothing. Harry pins him down fast, putting all those muscles he’s been building up at the gym to good use. Louis keeps struggling, but he’s really getting nowhere.</p>
<p>They end up getting pulled apart by Liam, who’s got a roll of tape in his hand and a wicked gleam in his eye. There’s barely any time to protest before Liam is putting that tape to good use, and it’s only a couple of minutes before Louis is on his feet again, Harry stuck to his back.</p>
<p>Well. This is definitely something, alright.</p>
<p>“This,” Louis starts, rocking back and forth on his heels, testing the strength of the tape, “is an absolutely unjust punishment. Tell me, Liam, what did I ever do to you in order to deserve this?”</p>
<p>He’s expecting to get a half-serious answer. What he’s not expecting is what he actually gets – lifted off his feet entirely and spun around in a different direction. Louis yelps, slapping his hands down on top of Harry’s arm, panicking for a second.</p>
<p>“You’re amazing,” Harry sighs into his ear, just sappy enough that a laugh bubbles up in Louis’ chest. He slaps at Harry’s arm again, gentler, and shifts his weight. He only does it in order to get more comfortable, not expecting – </p>
<p>“Wow,” Louis says, pressing back again, intentionally this time. “Something you want to tell me, Harold?”</p>
<p>He glances back at Harry over his shoulder, making sure that his face looks as cute as possible. Watches Harry swallow, the way his throat bobs, the way his cock feels against Louis’ arse, undeniably hard, undeniably large.</p>
<p>Harry’s mouth opens, closes again. He’s at a loss for words, simply from being taped to Louis’ back, big and broad, and okay, Louis <i>definitely</i> likes this.</p>
<p>“Merry fucking birthday to me,” Louis murmurs. He gets a wheezed laugh in return, and even before Harry comes up with anything to say, he’s already decided. Later, after this stupid promo event is over, he’s going to make a move. Harry’s cock will be his real birthday present.</p>
<p>Merry fucking Christmas to the both of them. Literally.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The thing is, Louis can actually wrap a gift. He’s pretty good at it, too - his mum needed help wrapping Christmas presents for the younger ones when Louis was living with her, and as the oldest it meant Louis was the one helping more often than not. Between the two of them they could get an entire pile of gifts wrapped in no time at all.</p>
<p>Wrapping the gift like that, it’s pretty much just Louis fucking around, being a pain. The way it makes Harry look at him, though - it makes Harry look at him like he’s made of sunshine and rainbows and everything nice. Like he’s <i>endeared</i>. And Louis never wants Harry to lose that look, not when it’s directed at Louis. So if he spends the next four years pretending to be shit at wrapping presents, well. It makes his mum roll her eyes at him and Harry kiss the pout off of Louis’ face every time, so Louis considers it a win.</p>
<p>Right up until he forgets himself.</p>
<p>“What is this,” Harry asks slowly, standing in the doorway with two mugs in his hands, watching the gift wrapping process. Clearly he was being thoughtful and bringing Louis and his mum tea while they scramble to get things ready for the morning, and now Louis has gone and fucked up four years of a stupid con.</p>
<p>“Um,” Louis says. His mum snickers behind her hand and keeps wrapping, ignoring the dirty look Louis shoots at her. So much for having support in his family members.</p>
<p>Harry looks at him placidly. Louis scrambles for a word that isn’t <i>um</i>, any word, and comes up with, “Hi.”</p>
<p><i>Hi</i>. That’s great. Good job, brain.</p>
<p>“Right,” Harry says, setting the mugs down and beckoning at Louis with one finger. “You, come.” He doesn’t wait to see if Louis is going to obey, just stalks out of the room.</p>
<p>Louis sighs, abandoning his task forlornly. “I told you this plan would only get you into trouble,” his mum says calmly, taping an edge of wrapping paper down. She doesn’t sound sympathetic at all.</p>
<p>“Aren’t you supposed to be supportive of your children?” Louis grumbles, pushing himself to his feet. His mum laughs him out of the room and all the way down the hallway, where he finds Harry waiting for him with his arms crossed over his chest, practically tapping his foot impatiently.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t give him a chance to start in on whatever lecture he has brewing, walking right up into Harry’s crossed arms and hugging him awkwardly, tucking his face into Harry’s chest purely because he knows it never fails to make Harry soften at least a little. “I missed you,” he says quietly.</p>
<p>Harry’s arms unwind reluctantly and wrap themselves around Louis’ lower back instead. Ha. Louis can totally rock this whole maudlin apologetic thing.</p>
<p>“Did you seriously lie about your gift wrapping ability for the past four years?”</p>
<p>Okay, maybe not. Louis hunches his shoulders in, makes himself a little smaller. Pulls out all the stops.</p>
<p>“Why?” Harry asks. He doesn’t sound angry, just confused. Perplexed, even.</p>
<p>Louis shrugs, lacing his fingers together behind Harry’s back. He really wants that cup of tea now. “Because I like the way you always try to help me when I’m wrapping presents for other people and I like the way you smile at me when I wrap them like that for you.”</p>
<p>It’s the truth. It’s not even that shitty of a lie, either - making it seem like he’s terrible at wrapping presents isn’t a relationship strainer.</p>
<p>Harry sighs, sliding his hands down to grope at Louis’ bum. Louis lets him, pleased by the attention. He feels weird about having a birthday shag while his family is in the house but a birthday grope and a birthday snog are doable. Totally doable. “You pick such weird things to lie about,” Harry mutters. He still sounds endeared.</p>
<p>Louis rocks up onto his toes, pecking the corner of Harry’s mouth. “The first time I lied about it it ended up with you taped to my back, so.”</p>
<p>He can practically feel Harry’s swallow. It was a long time ago, that incident, but it still makes Harry hot under the collar every time Louis brings it up. Maybe it’s time Louis re-enacts it. Walk around for an hour with Harry plastered to his back, all big and hot and intense.</p>
<p>On second thought, they probably wouldn’t last an hour. They would definitely need to have sex before that hour was up.</p>
<p>“Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you,” Harry says, pecking Louis back. It’s inevitably going to end up in a full snog and one of the girls is going to walk by and throw something at them.</p>
<p>Louis can live with that.</p>
<p>“No you don’t,” Louis tells him, reaching up to wind his arms around Harry’s neck instead. “You love me for who I am, weird quirks included, and it’s my birthday. I’m pretty sure you have to be nice to me today. It’s like a rule or something.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Harry says softly, turning them slowly, until Louis’ back is up against a wall, “if it’s a rule, then.” His mouth is hot and tender as he kisses the words right off Louis’ tongue, slow and sweet. It’s probably the best birthday snog Louis could ever ask for.</p>
<p>Lottie does up passing by and throwing a straw wrapper at the back of Harry’s head. Louis isn’t even a bit surprised.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Criminals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Discussion of criminal activity</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s three o’clock in the morning, and Louis is asleep. Louis is asleep in his big, beautiful bed, underneath a warm, comfortable blanket, dreaming about mermaids facing off against Godzilla.</p>
<p>Something warm settles against his back, drawing him out of his peaceful slumber. Louis stirs, makes a noise, and settles again. Nothing in the world can matter more than mermaids squaring off against Godzilla.</p>
<p>That something warm kisses the back of Louis’ neck. Louis grumbles, clinging onto the last wisps of sleep, unwilling to wake. It’s too early for whatever this is</p>
<p>“I brought you a gift,” Harry says, trying to find Louis’ hand under the duvet and press something into it.</p>
<p>Louis wants the gift, but he also doesn’t want to open his eyes. It’s quite the dilemma. “What is it?” he asks, curling his fingers a little around the object but mostly around Harry’s. Harry’s been gone for three days, and Louis doesn’t mind having the entire bed to himself but it’s also really nice to have Harry’s body heat plastered against his back when they’re asleep. Another dilemma.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you open your eyes and find out?” Harry asks, amusement colouring his tone.</p>
<p>Louis keeps his eyes closed. “Is it a pony?” he guesses.</p>
<p>Harry huffs out a laugh against the back of Louis’ head. “You know very well that it’s not a pony.”</p>
<p>“If you loved me you would have brought me a pony,” Louis grumbles.</p>
<p>The squeeze Harry gives him in response is intentionally sharp and tight. “I would burn down entire <i>cities</i>, that’s how much I love you. Let rivers of blood run through the streets, bodies fall where they die, people - ”</p>
<p>There’s really only one way to get Harry to stop being so melodramatic when he’s on a roll like this. Louis wiggles his hips back directly against Harry’s, pushing his arse into Harry’s crotch.</p>
<p>The way Harry’s sharp inhale cuts off the rest of his rant is very pleasing. Louis is very pleased. </p>
<p>“Baby,” Harry says, slow, deliberate, “you keep grinding on me like that and I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”</p>
<p>If he thinks that’s a good threat, he has no idea what Louis is all about. Harry’s been gone for three days and Louis might still be tired and grumpy but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to be fucked.</p>
<p>“Would you just open your eyes and look at your present?” Harry demands, that tightness in his voice that he always gets when he’s starting to get turned on but has things to be doing audible.</p>
<p>Louis gives in and opens his eyes, squinting down at the object in his hand.</p>
<p>It’s a tiny ceramic frog. It’s an ugly, tiny ceramic frog, and for some reason it’s purple.</p>
<p>Louis loves it.</p>
<p>He brings it closer to his face, examining it from every angle. It’s so ugly, is the thing, ugly enough that it must have been stupidly expensive.</p>
<p>“Did you buy this or did you steal it?” Louis asks, brushing his thumb over its left eye.</p>
<p>There’s a slight pause. “That depends on how you’re going to react to the honest answer,” Harry says, only a little warily, and just like that Louis knows the answer.</p>
<p>“Ugh, I can’t believe you actually <i>bought</i> this,” he says, elbowing Harry disgustedly. “I bet one of the rich people you’re always blackmailing has like ten of these in their house that you could have taken instead of buying it.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, forgive me for buying you something I thought you would like,” Harry says, squeezing Louis’ waist again.</p>
<p>Louis elbows him. “I’m just saying, there’s no reason to be buying something you could easily get for free. All you’d have to do is show up there and be intimidating, get your goons to loom behind you, and they’d probably empty out their bank accounts for you.”</p>
<p>Harry sighs and rolls onto his back, leaving Louis’ cold and exposed. Rude. “I’ve told you a thousand times that I don’t want my business interfering in our relationship.”</p>
<p>Louis rolls his eyes and fights his way out of the nest of blankets, clambering his way on top of Harry’s hips and setting the frog onto the bedside table. “And I’ve told you a thousand times that I’m not some fragile little flower who needs to be protected from the violence of your lifestyle.”</p>
<p>If the fact that Harry is technically a criminal whose illegal activities have gotten him this house and his life was going to bother Louis, that would have happened a long time ago. And so far, it hasn’t.</p>
<p>Harry’s hands come up to grip Louis’ hips. It’s a tight, possessive hold, and in the dark of the room it’s easy to give in to the thought that the part of Harry’s life he tries to keep separate from Louis is finally about to bleed over. “I’m not going to have this argument with you again.”</p>
<p>“Well, that’s too bad, because we’re <i>going</i> to talk about it,” Louis says firmly. His eyes have adjusted to the dark and it’s pretty easy to make out Harry’s stubborn expression.</p>
<p>“Louis,” he says, a little tired, a little horny, “just let it go already.”</p>
<p>Louis <i>isn’t</i> going to let it go, and he opens his mouth to say so.</p>
<p>He promptly gets cut off by Harry flipping them over, practically crushing Louis with his weight. “Let it go,” Harry repeats, firmer, and his voice isn’t the only part of him that’s firm.</p>
<p>“No,” Louis says, spreading his thighs to give Harry more space between them. “I want to be part of your life, Harry, and that includes <i>every</i> part of it.”</p>
<p>Harry stares down at him, eyes glittering and intent in the dark. “You,” he says, curling his fingers around Louis’ jaw and holding him still, “are the most impossible thing in my life.”</p>
<p>He kisses Louis before Louis has a chance to decide whether that’s meant to be a compliment or not. It’s as distracting as it always is, and Louis’ thighs spread a little more, curling around Harry’s hips. Forcing Harry to trust him with his business can wait, Louis decides. If anything, he’ll just go and rob some rich person to make sure Harry knows how serious he is. For now, the more important thing is the feeling of Harry’s tongue in his mouth.</p>
<p>Also Harry’s cock pressing against his belly. Harry’s cock is very important to Louis.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Daddy Kink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The two drabbles in this chapter are unrelated to each other but still in the daddy kink theme. One is a safeword scene and the other is a sex scene.</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Daddy Kink<br/>Use Of Safewords<br/>Spanking<br/>D/s</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That’s it,” Harry murmurs, bringing his hand down against Louis’ arse, palm flat to cover the most skin. “Such a good boy for your daddy, aren’t you, sweetheart.”</p>
<p>He brings his hand down again, harder this time. Louis whimpers, squirming on Harry’s lap. It’s obscene, the way his skin holds the pinkness where Harry’s hand has landed. The way he sounds, quiet and overwhelmed.</p>
<p>It takes a few more slaps for Harry to realize that Louis isn’t responding like he normally does, whimpers more whiny and anxious than usual.</p>
<p>“Baby?” Harry asks, resting his hand on the curve of Louis’ bum. “You okay?”</p>
<p>Louis sniffs, shudders. “Watermelon,” is all he says.</p>
<p>Harry instantly takes his hands away, letting Louis roll off of his lap and onto his knees on the carpet. He scrambles for a blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it around Louis’ shoulders, covering him up. Then he helps Louis back up onto the couch, touching him in places that aren’t that intimate. Just the arms, mainly.</p>
<p>And waits.</p>
<p>It takes a few minutes for Louis to get his breathing back under control. In that time, he slumps back into Harry’s lap, stretching out and hiding his face. Harry strokes his hair gently, murmuring soft, soothing nonsense to him, until Louis is able to blink his eyes open and look up at him.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” he says, reaching out to tangle his fingers in the edges of his blanket.</p>
<p>For a second, Harry’s throat closes, overcome with emotion. He has to clear it before he can speak. “No, baby, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he says, rubbing his thumb down Louis’ hairline, towards his ear. “You okay?”</p>
<p>Louis sighs, shoving himself along the sofa with one foot pressed against the armrest, until his head is propped up on a pillow, back spread out over Harry’s lap. He doesn’t seem to want to get up, which Harry is taking as a good sign.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Louis says, shrugging. “Just panicked, y’know?”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t, actually, and it’s his job to find out exactly what happened so he can prevent it happening again in the future. “About what?” he asks gently.</p>
<p>Louis breathes evenly as he considers it. “Nothing,” he says, huffing out a laugh. “I think I just wasn’t in the proper space. Distracted. I wasn’t all there and it started to hurt more than it felt good.”</p>
<p>One of Louis’ favourite things has always been spanking. He can get off on it really easily if Harry lets him, wants it more often than he doesn’t. In turn, it’s one of Harry’s favourite things, too, the way it warms Louis’ skin, make him shiver and moan and beg. Harry loves it just as much as Louis does.</p>
<p>“You want to take a break from the spanking for now?” Harry asks. If it means Louis will be able to process what he’s feeling, get better, Harry will go the rest of his life without spanking him.</p>
<p>Even though it’ll be hard.</p>
<p>Louis’ mouth quirks up into a smile. “And miss the way you can never say anything but <i>such a good little boy for daddy</i>?” he asks. “Nah. I still want it just as much as I did yesterday, I just have to make sure that I’m actually in the mood for it when it’s happening.”</p>
<p>Okay. That’s doable, then. “So I’ll check in more often,” Harry decides, laying his palm flat on Louis’ belly over the blanket. “Make sure you want it.”</p>
<p>Louis grabs Harry’s hand off of his belly and pulls it up to his mouth, biting at his fingers. “You’re the best daddy a boy could ever ask for,” he simpers. It’s his trashy fake sex voice, the one he uses in public when he wants to be a dick.</p>
<p>It still gets to Harry’s dick.</p>
<p>“You’re the best boy a daddy could ever ask for,” Harry returns, pulling their joint hands up to his own mouth to kiss at Louis’ fingers.</p>
<p>Louis sighs, trusting that Harry will be able to take his weight with one arm as he pulls himself up using the grip Harry has on his hand. Harry does, but he could just as easily not have. “You always make things so sappy,” Louis accuses, straddling Harry’s lap. </p>
<p>Well. He’s not wrong. Harry kisses him quiet.</p>
<hr/>
<p>It’s probably inappropriate, the thrill that runs through Harry when the only acceptable word to describe Louis’ behaviour is <i>petulant</i>. It doesn’t matter where they are or what they’re doing - if Louis’ behaviour can only be described as petulant Harry’s blood thrums through his veins.</p>
<p>When Louis is being petulant it means he wants attention, and only a certain kind of attention. When Louis is being petulant it means that he wants to be Harry’s baby.</p>
<p>Not that he’s ever not Harry’s baby, but when he’s acting like this, stroppy and demanding, he wants Harry to put him in his place. Sometimes he’ll pretend like he does it so Harry will be rough with him, but that’s rarely what he actually wants. What he actually wants is for Harry to be gentle with him, to take care of him, to be Harry’s boy.</p>
<p>He is Harry’s boy. He’s always been Harry’s boy.</p>
<p>The second that they’re alone - finally, <i>finally</i> alone - Harry looks at Louis, halfway across the room and pretending to look at his phone, and says, “You done?” placid and even.</p>
<p>Louis lets his phone clatter onto the table beside the chair he’s sitting in and crosses the room, clambering onto Harry’s lap easy as breathing. “You want me to be sorry, daddy?” He rolls his hips, pressing his arse down onto Harry’s crotch, and Harry doesn’t bother trying to still him.</p>
<p>Physically, at least.</p>
<p>He does bring one hand up to trace over the curve of Louis’ bottom lip. “You’re already sorry, aren’t you, baby?” Harry asks mildly, tugging on the soft flesh with two fingers. “Just wanna be a good little boy for daddy.”</p>
<p>Louis shudders all the way to Harry’s chest, collapsing against it like someone’s cut all the strings holding him up. “Good for daddy,” Louis echoes, as if he can’t stop himself.</p>
<p>Harry lets his thumb turn, scraping his fingernail across the softness of Louis’ lip. “Good little boys get special treats,” he murmurs, spreading his other hand out across Louis’ back, stroking his bare skin slowly.</p>
<p>God, he loves lads nights. Lads nights where everyone ends up shirtless for some reason or another makes it so much easier to play with Louis once everyone else is gone.</p>
<p>None of those reasons are homoerotic. Nothing gets homoerotic until they’re alone.</p>
<p>Well. Mostly nothing. There’s always some degree of homoeroticness in this band and it’s usually not even Louis or Harry who instigate it.</p>
<p>Louis whimpers, hands flying to the buttons of Harry’s shirt, trying to get them undone. Harry tsks, slipping his fingers farther down Louis’ back, edging underneath the waist of his jeans. “Is this being a good boy?”</p>
<p>Louis whimpers again, hands slipping off of Harry’s shirt and down into his lap. He looks beautiful - wrecked already, and they’ve only just started. “Daddy,” he whispers, bunching his fingers up in the bottom of Harry’s shirt like he can’t stop himself. Harry shushes him, pulling him in back up so they can kiss, reveling in the way Louis’ mouth opens for him immediately, soft and wet and just as thrilling as it was the first time they kissed.</p>
<p>The kiss is hungry and searching, and Louis stays mostly still for it, making little noises into Harry’s mouth, and he’s gone from being a complete nuisance to being Harry’s good little boy so fast that Harry’s a little dizzy from all the blood rushing to his cock.</p>
<p>“Daddy,” Louis says into Harry’s mouth, rubbing the side of his hand over the fly of Harry’s jeans, light enough that he’s clearly trying to pretend that the touch is an accident. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Harry clears his throat and lets his fingers wander a little farther down, grateful for the fact that Louis is wearing loose jeans for once, giving him more room than usual. “I know,” Harry says, smoothing his other hand down Louis’ chest, flicking over his nipples just to hear him gasp.</p>
<p>“Good boys get something nice to suck on,” Harry murmurs. Louis is moving before he’s even finished the sentence, slipping off of Harry’s lap and onto the ground between his knees gracelessly, getting his pants open and tugging his cock out eagerly, sucking it into his mouth without even pausing for a breath.</p>
<p>It’s a good thing Harry’s sitting down. Louis goes at it desperately, sucking his cock like there’s nothing he wants more in the world, wet and wonderful, barely even taking any time to slide down the first couple of inches.</p>
<p>“You’re daddy’s gorgeous, wonderful little boy,” Harry chokes out, sliding his fingers into Louis’ hair and gripping him just tight enough to reassure him, remind him how much Harry loves him.</p>
<p>Louis’ mouth is hot and sucking and he’s already got Harry’s spine tingling, about ready to come just from a little bit of cocksucking. He can hold off, though, hold off and let Louis take what he wants, what he needs, so he grits his teeth and lets his head fall back against the couch, keeping his eyes focused on Louis’ face, on how he looks, sucking Harry’s dick.</p>
<p>He’ll never let himself be anything but what Louis needs, though, so he thumbs across Louis’ skin to press at the corner of his mouth, right where Harry’s cock is disappearing, still only the first few inches. “Wanna make daddy happy, don’t you? Gonna make daddy happy and suck it all, baby, I know you are.”</p>
<p>Louis moans around him, wet and messy as he tries to take more of Harry’s cock, letting Harry pull him down nice and slow, easy. He’s breathing through his nose, scratching at Harry’s thighs, head bent so Harry can barely even see and it feels incredible. It’s everything Harry needs right now, so he relaxes into the couch and keeps one hand buried in Louis’ hair and the other stroking his face, and tells him.</p>
<p>“Make me feel so good, baby,” he murmurs, the head of his cock pressing against the back of Louis’ throat, warm and tight and unresistant. “Just want to make your daddy happy and let him take care of you, huh?”</p>
<p>He falters a little when Louis deepthroats him, has to. Louis’ mouth is heaven regardless of what he’s doing with it, but deepthroating?</p>
<p>Harry could die a happy man when Louis is deepthroating him.</p>
<p>“Baby,” he says, fucking his hips up, unable to stop himself, “you’re so good for daddy, <i>so good</i>,” and keeps mumbling out nonsense while he comes down Louis’ throat, petting his hair and letting his orgasm wrack his body.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t stop sucking until Harry pulls him off, coaxes him back up into Harry’s lap. He still feels a little trembly and flushed, cock still softening. Harry’s an excellent multitasker, though, so he gets Louis’ jeans open and his hand around Louis’ cock and starts pulling him off slow and gentle, without any intention of actually getting him off anytime soon.</p>
<p>This is Harry’s boy and he’s going to play with him any way he likes.</p>
<p>Kissing Louis is an erotic experience in itself, and Harry could kiss Louis until Louis is squirming and begging to come - <i>has</i> kissed Louis until he’s squirming and begging to come. There’s nothing like Louis’ mouth, and there’s nothing like Louis’ mouth after Harry’s just finished fucking it and he can still taste himself inside.</p>
<p>Harry generally considers himself a strong person. He thinks he’s capable of withstanding a lot of pressure, and that he doesn’t let things get to him.</p>
<p>Except Louis whimpers, “<i>Please</i>,” and pushes his hips up into Harry’s hand, cock hard and wet at the tip, and Harry’s never really been all that great at saying no to him.</p>
<p>Especially not when it involves making Louis come.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry says, hoisting Louis up with one arm underneath his bum and the other around his back, and flips them, laying Louis out on the couch, shoving his jeans down to tangle hopelessly around his thighs.</p>
<p>It’s okay. He won’t need that much room for what Harry has in mind.</p>
<p>He’s barely settled down onto his knees beside the couch when he takes Louis’ cock into his mouth, licking at the tip before hollowing his cheeks and sucking the head in, swirling his tongue around the sensitive underside of his shaft.</p>
<p>“Oh, oh, oh,” Louis’ gasping it out, hips trying to work themselves up. Harry pulls off altogether and blows against Louis’ cock, watching it jerk from the sensation. “Daddy, please.”</p>
<p>“Good boys take what their daddies want to give them without being greedy,” Harry murmurs, tapping Louis’ hip pointedly.</p>
<p>“Sorry, daddy, ‘m sorry,” Louis says, except it comes out more like a sob, so Harry takes pity on him, sucking his cock back into his mouth and letting saliva drip down onto his balls, making it nice and messy and wet, just the way Louis likes it. The way he’s begging for it right now.</p>
<p>It’s unexpected, when Louis comes. Harry’s barely even got the first three inches in his mouth, and all it takes is a good strong suck and Harry’s fingernails raking over his hipbones for his orgasm to hit, flooding Harry’s mouth.</p>
<p>Harry swallows, because it’s the polite thing to do, and spends another two minutes using his mouth on the head of Louis’ cock, not letting him go completely soft, making sure that his balls are completely drained, empty.</p>
<p>Louis’ face is soft and sweet by the time he pulls off, even though he must be hurting just a little, open and languid. He offers Harry a tiny, smug little smile and thrashes a little, kicking his jeans all the way off, and says, “Thank you, daddy,” like he’s just remembering his manners.</p>
<p>Now, don’t get him wrong, Louis definitely has manners. He even has manners that he uses on Harry, but this isn’t that. This is Louis being Harry’s petulant little boy and expecting to get cuddled for it, maybe snogged a little and then spooned to sleep.</p>
<p>“Tired, huh, baby,” Harry says sympathetically, rubbing his palm over Louis’ belly, soft and smooth. Louis nods, mouth twisting into the tiniest little pout.</p>
<p>“Time for sleep,” he agrees.</p>
<p>Harry’s got news for him. His own cock is fully hard between his thighs, and Louis has been a terror all day. This evening is far from over.</p>
<p>To prove it, he takes Louis’ cock back into his hand and rubs over his head, firm and inescapable. It’s still wet, limp in Harry’s hand, and Harry honestly has no preference of whether it stays that way or not.</p>
<p>There’s something to be said for the way Louis’ face looks when Harry plays with him after he’s come and gone soft. “You made daddy look bad today,” he says, cupping Louis’ balls with his other hand and giving them a little squeeze. Louis gasps, wet pink mouth falling open, and tries to pull away. There’s nowhere for him to go, though - he’s caught here on this couch with Harry blocking his escape and plenty of time before anyone’s expecting to see them again.</p>
<p>“I didn’t,” Louis argues, reaching out to flick at Harry’s chest, and <i>oh</i>. It’s going to be one of those nights, when Louis is argumentative and pushy and demanding and pretends like he’s the one who’s in control.</p>
<p>Harry’s got all night to show him otherwise.</p>
<p>“You did,” he says, squeezing again. Louis’ thighs try to close, but they’re hindered by his jeans, and he’s the prettiest thing Harry’s ever seen, getting flushed and angry because he wants to sleep and Harry has no intention of letting him. “Made daddy look like he doesn’t know how to control his little boy, and you know how that makes me feel, when my little boy isn’t being good.”</p>
<p>Louis stops struggling. His throat clicks as he swallows, staring up at Harry with big blue eyes. “But I am,” he says softly, reaching out with one hand. Harry doesn’t know what he means to do with it, but he catches it anyway, bringing Louis’ hand up to his mouth so he can kiss his knuckles, his fingertips, his palm, down to his wrist so he can feel the way Louis shivers. “I am good. I’m your good little boy, daddy, I <i>am</i>.”</p>
<p>“Most of the time,” Harry agrees, watching the way Louis immediately relaxes back into the cushions, as if it was something that he was honestly worried about. “Tonight you were just a bad little boy, and you know that bad little boys get what they deserve.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Louis says, small and quiet. Harry kisses him, leaning over him on the couch with one hand still holding Louis’ balls and the other holding Louis’ hand, and by the time he breaks the kiss his chest feels full, of love and determination in equal amounts.</p>
<p>This is Harry’s boy, and he’ll be damned if he lets him get away with something that he shouldn’t.</p>
<p>“You can come as much as you want,” Harry tells him, letting go of Louis’ hand to brush the hair out of his face, wrist gliding against Louis’ cheek. “But it’s not over until I say it is, you got that?”</p>
<p>“I understand, daddy,” Louis says solemnly, reaching out lightning fast and squeezing Harry’s cock, tight and warm and just the way Harry likes it. “You’re under the impression that a spanking is a <i>punishment</i>.”</p>
<p>No, Harry is under no such impression. He knows perfectly well how Louis responds to a spanking - breathy, turned on moaning and helpless squirming in Harry’s lap. He wasn’t kidding about letting Louis come, though. He intends to <i>make</i> Louis come, and then once Louis does he doesn’t intend to stop. There’s only one word that could make him stop, and he doesn’t think that Louis is going to be using it tonight. </p>
<p>Harry is going to show him, though, show him exactly what bad little boys who disobey their daddies get, and in a few weeks Louis is probably going to make him repeat the lesson all over again.</p>
<p>That’s okay. Harry looks forward to it.</p>
<p>“You know where I want you, baby,” Harry says, not bothering to respond to the taunt. In five minutes Louis will know exactly how wrong he is anyway.</p>
<p>Louis scrambles off of the couch and lays himself out across Harry’s lap face down, folding his arms up and resting his head on them, swaying his biteable arse right in Harry’s face.</p>
<p>Harry’s going to bite it. Not right now, and probably not for a good half hour, but he’s going to bite it. “Like this, daddy?” Louis asks, faux-innocent as he twists to look at Harry over his shoulder.</p>
<p>He’s going to learn. Harry’s going to show him. “Exactly like that, baby,” Harry says, and lays into him properly, until Louis is crying real tears and squirming around.</p>
<p>Louis gives him three more orgasms before Harry’s ready to call it a night, and it’s been literal hours since they’ve started. Every second has been worth it, though, and by the time he’s laying Louis down in the bed after having rubbed some soothing cream all over his sore spots, Harry’s more than ready to pass out himself.</p>
<p>Just one more thing he has to do first.</p>
<p>Louis’ exhausted and happy, and he probably hasn’t learned anything even remotely close to a lesson, but he’s sore and he’ll be wincing when he sits down all day tomorrow, so Harry’s satisfied with his work. He rubs his thumb over the curve of Louis’ jaw, coaxing him to look at him, and says, “You’re daddy’s good little boy, aren’t you? Daddy loves you so much.”</p>
<p>“Daddy’s good little boy,” Louis echoes, mouth curving into a tiny little smile. “Love you, too.”</p>
<p>Harry does end up spooning him to sleep. Not that it really could have gone any other way.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Drunken Behaviour + Tattoos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The drabbles found in this chapter are: Butt Tattoo, Drunk Louis, Drunk And Disruptive Louis</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Alcohol<br/>Dares<br/>Poor Decision Making<br/>Explicit Sexual Content</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Butt Tattoo</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><i>Is it done?</i> Harry sends, biting absently at his thumbnail as he peers at his phone. It’s ragged and could do with some filing or else he’ll end up pulling it off with his teeth and end up making himself bleed a little.</p>
<p>Louis’ response takes a few minutes to come. <i>Me arse hurts, you fucking wanker. Never gonna listen to you again.</i></p>
<p>Harry narrows his eyes at the phone suspiciously. It would be just like Louis to lie about something like this to get sympathy before he’s even done it.</p>
<p>“Excuse me,” Harry says abruptly, pushing his chair out from the table. Grimmy boos as Harry walks away, and Harry flips him off in response. He’s been mostly present during this dinner and that’s really all that can be asked of him when Louis is in another country and badgering Harry over text.</p>
<p>It takes three rings, but Louis picks up. “Fuck, Harry, me arse hurts,” he complains immediately, as if he wasn’t <i>just</i> complaining about that. Harry closes the bathroom door behind him and takes a seat on the edge of the tub.</p>
<p>“Is it really done?” Harry responds, not bothering with a greeting either. They’re way past the point of needing to greet each other during a phone call.</p>
<p>Although Harry doesn’t really remember if they ever had that point. He’s pretty sure the first time he called Louis he answered with a story about Stan eating rotten grapes. Harry had barely gotten a word in edgewise and Harry is <i>excellent</i> at getting words in edgewise.</p>
<p>“Course it’s done, arsehole, I wouldn’t have said it’s done if it wasn’t done,” Louis scoffs. There’s noise in the background like he might still be at the tattoo parlor. </p>
<p>Harry’s eyes narrow even more. “You’re a liar, though,” he says accusingly. “You say shit that isn’t true all the time. How am I supposed to believe you now?”</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t lie about a tattoo, would I,” Louis says. “About whether I like your latest ugly shirt purchase, sure, or whether I’ve done the dishes like I said I did, or whether I faked an orgasm or not, but not about a tattoo.”</p>
<p>“You’ve never faked an orgasm,” Harry objects.</p>
<p>“That’s what you think,” Louis responds smugly. </p>
<p>Harry purses his lips, adjusting his position. His arse is starting to hurt. “You’ve never faked an orgasm,” he repeats, more confidently. “Got scratches on my back right now that say you can’t control yourself when we’re having sex, much less fake an orgasm.”</p>
<p>Louis stays quiet. It’s a stubborn quietness, one that Harry could coax him out of if they were in the same room. They’re not, though, so Harry’s going to have to try a little harder.</p>
<p>“Does it really hurt?” he asks, dropping his voice to something just above a murmur. Louis makes a vague affirming noise, pout audible. Harry grins to himself, scratching his eyebrow. “If you were here I’d kiss it better for you.”</p>
<p>“If I was there you’d be rubbing the fact that I lost in my face,” Louis mutters. It’s a little savage, a little bitter. It’s Louis through and through. Harry has no doubt there’s going to be an even worse bet in their immediate future. “Know you, Harry.”</p>
<p>That he does. “Send me a picture,” Harry begs, not above it when it’s Louis on the other end of the line. “Please, baby.”</p>
<p>He can practically hear it when Louis relents. “Hate you,” he says, and hangs up abruptly. Harry might believe it if it wasn’t for five years of experience and the picture he receives thirty seconds later.</p>
<p>It’s not even a full nude, but it has Harry’s mouth drying anyway. It’s just a tiny little tattoo, one that wouldn’t even be there if he hadn’t been insistent that he could bench more than Harry, and if Harry was a better person he would have let Louis off the hook, not made him go through with it.</p>
<p>Except. <i>Butterfly</i>. As in, <i>butt</i>-erfly. It’s kind of perfect.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rest of dinner goes pretty smoothly. Harry gets made fun of when he returns to the table, but it’s not unexpected.</p>
<p>It’s not until he gets home that night and browses through Twitter that he sees it.</p>
<p>Louis is the one who calls him this time. He’s drunk and happy and in a hotel room, curled up in bed, about to go to sleep, and talking to Harry is the last thing he always tries to do before he passes out, even when he’s smashed.</p>
<p>“Wandering around showing your bum to half the population of Chicago, I see,” Harry says by way of greeting.</p>
<p>Louis giggles, a sure sign that he actually is quite drunk. “People wanna see me bum, Harold, who am I to turn them down?”</p>
<p>Harry sighs, reluctantly endeared, leaning back against the couch and propping his foot up on the coffee table. “Just don’t be going around acting like a little slag for anyone who’s not me,” he says, flicking through channels quickly.</p>
<p>“Mm,” Louis breathes into the phone, drawing all of Harry’s attention quickly. “Not gonna.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Harry says, letting his knees fall farther apart. He’s pretty sure Louis isn’t up for phone sex right now, not as drunk and tired as he is, but it’s nice to have more room for his cock in his pants. Especially because talking to Louis reminds him that Louis has a brand new tattoo sitting just about his arse and it’s all for Harry.</p>
<p>Louis’ breathing is starting to go deep and even the way it does just before he falls asleep. Definitely no phone sex then. “Love you,” Louis mumbles. Sounds as though the phone is mashed against his cheek. “Comin’ home tomorrow. Don’t forget to buy me a welcome home present.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “Love you too. Make sure you drink some water after you puke.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time Louis gets home, Harry’s almost antsy with anticipation. His cock has been half hard in his pants the entire day, even as he tidied up and loaded the dishwasher and did a load of laundry.</p>
<p>Always one to make an entrance, Louis starts shouting before his key is even in the door, audible but slurred through the wood. Harry rolls his eyes and goes to let him in, just barely catching Louis as he throws himself into Harry’s arms with his entire body. </p>
<p>“I missed you,” Louis warbles, trusting that Harry will be able to hold him up as he wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and clings to Harry’s shoulders.</p>
<p>“You were gone for less than two days,” Harry points out, kicking the door closed and carrying Louis back into the living room, leaving his bag in the hallway. He’ll go back for it later, when Louis inevitably realizes he’s forgotten his phone in it and whines until Harry gets it for him.</p>
<p>“You trying to say you didn’t miss me too?” Louis asks. His raised eyebrow is audible in his voice.</p>
<p>If Harry wants sex tonight he better say no. Louis holding out until Harry says what he wants him to is kind of a recurring pattern in their relationship.</p>
<p>“Of course I missed you,” Harry says, sitting down on the couch carefully, so he doesn’t trap one of Louis’ feet underneath him. “You’re the light of my life, the reason I wake up in the morning, the only thing that gets me through a hard day, the - ”</p>
<p>Louis smacks his shoulder. “God, you’re the worst,” he says.</p>
<p>Harry beams at him. “Can I see it now?”</p>
<p>“No. You’re the worst and I hate you. Also you’ve already seen it.” Louis folds his arms across his chest and stares Harry down. It would be much more effective if he wasn’t also sitting on Harry’s lap.</p>
<p>Not that Harry’s complaining.</p>
<p>“But I’ve only seen it on a shitty iPhone picture,” Harry points out, inching his fingertips into Louis’ trackies. He doesn’t get smacked away, which he immediately counts as a win.</p>
<p>“You calling my selfie game weak?” Louis asks, lifting his hips a little to allow Harry to shimmy the sweats down slowly. </p>
<p>His selfie game is on point and he knows it. Harry still wants to see the arse tattoo up close and personal. </p>
<p>Time to cut to the chase.</p>
<p>“If you stop trying to derail me and let me see it I’ll eat you out until you come,” Harry bargains. Under his hands, Louis shivers.</p>
<p>“You were going to do that anyway,” Louis says, but he lifts up onto his knees and stays still enough that Harry can get the sweats all the way off of him.</p>
<p>He’s not wrong. Harry’s not going to tell him that, though.</p>
<p>“Now turn over,” Harry says, tapping Louis’ hip pointedly. Louis doesn’t even snark, just wiggles around and lays himself out against the arm rest, shirt riding up his belly.</p>
<p>And then. Then Harry can see the tattoo in all of its delicate little glory, riding low on Louis’ back, just above the swell of his arse, off center and gorgeous. It’s a tiny, intricate little thing with only the slightest hints of green in it, mostly black ink. Harry swallows, tracing the skin around it reverently. It’s already started to scab, doing its thing and healing nicely, and Harry isn’t going to fuck that up. </p>
<p>“You’re awfully quiet back there,” Louis says, muscles in his back twisting as he turns to look at Harry over his shoulder. “You hate it or summat?” </p>
<p>Harry swallows again, flattening his hand out over the curve of Louis’ arse, enjoying the way it fills his palm. “It’s - ” he says helplessly. “Lou.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t know why he’s reacting like this. It’s not as though this is the first tattoo Louis’ ever gotten for him - their skin is filled with permanent reminders of how much they love each other, inked etchings of their relationship. This is practically nothing compared to the others, the ones they spent months planning and co-ordinating.</p>
<p>At the same time, it’s a little piece of Harry that Louis is going to carry around on his body for the rest of his life, something only Harry will ever be able to look at and enjoy.</p>
<p>“It’s pretty,” he says finally, digging his thumb into the meat of Louis’ cheek. “God, baby, it’s so pretty. Suits you.” </p>
<p>It does, too, misleadingly delicate in the way Louis can be when he wants to. When he’s trying to lull Harry into a false sense of security.</p>
<p>“Course it does,” Louis says, wiggling his bum happily. “’s part of me and part of you, after all.”</p>
<p>It is, and all of a sudden Harry can’t stand to waste any more time. He spreads Louis’ cheeks apart and bends his head down, swiping his tongue over Louis’ hole gently.</p>
<p>Immediately, Louis shudders in his hands. “Love you,” he slurs, so easy it would be ridiculous if Harry was any less hard. He isn’t, though, and he loves Louis back so much his heart is practically bursting with it, and Louis got a tattoo on his arse for Harry.</p>
<p>Harry says <i>love you</i> back with every swipe of his tongue, loosening up Louis’ hole with practiced experience, half lost in the noise of Louis’ high pitched moans above him.</p>
<p>It barely takes any time at all for Louis to come, hole clenching up tight around Harry’s tongue. He tastes so good, clean and sweet and all Harry’s. Harry’s cock is hard, trapped in his own sweats, tongue thick and swollen as he pulls it out of Louis’ hole.</p>
<p>“H,” Louis say softly, sweetly, all fucked out and tired from the flight, dead weight as Harry maneuvers him into prime eye candy position. “Haz, don’t get come on it, okay?”</p>
<p>“I know,” Harry breathes, gripping his cock tight and pulling himself off, eyes fixed on the fresh ink in front of him. “Not my first rodeo, baby.”</p>
<p>Beneath him, Louis huffs out an exhausted laugh, giving his bum a little wiggle as though it’s all he can manage. “Let you come on it as much as you want when it’s healed,” he promises sleepily, head pillowed on his arms. It’s a beautiful thought, so nice Harry has to bend over him carefully and mouth at the back of his neck, cock slipping in between Louis’ cheeks, still damp with spit. It’s not as wet of a slide as Harry would like, but does that really matter when it’s Louis underneath him?</p>
<p>No. No, it doesn’t. All that matters right now is that Louis is home and that he held up his end of the bet, got himself a tiny little tattoo to remember Harry by, one only the two of them and the entirety of Chicago know about.</p>
<p>With that thought, Harry comes, sliding more easily between Louis’ cheeks, getting it all over his hole, making him wet and messy. He bites at the back of Louis’ neck, a little harder than he normally would have, and enjoys it, the hot good sensations running through his body.</p>
<p>When he comes back to himself (ha) Louis is more or less asleep underneath him, limp and trusting in Harry’s arms. Harry’s brain is sleep fuzzy and sex stupid, but he manages to get him cleaned up - by which he means he gathers up as much of his come as he can and pushes it into Louis’ hole while Louis twitches and complains softly - and then gets Louis up and down the hall so they can crash in their bed.</p>
<p><i>Butt</i>erfly. God, Harry’s so funny sometimes he can barely even believe it himself.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Drunk Louis</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I really love Liam,” Louis tells Harry’s shoulder, stumbling along as Harry tries to guide them out the door, tense and silent at his side. “He has big muscles. Have you ever felt his muscles, Haz? You should. They’re really nice, all big and muscley.”</p>
<p>Hmm. That sounds weird. “Is muscley a word?” Louis wonders, trying to pull his phone out of his pocket to check. It turns out his jeans are too tight for that to work.</p>
<p>Damn jeans. How did his phone even get in there in the first place.</p>
<p>“No,” Harry grunts, still guiding him along. That’s all he says. <i>No</i>.</p>
<p>“Are you mad?” Louis asks, reaching up to poke Harry’s left dimple, even though it’s hiding right now and he can’t really find it.</p>
<p>“No,” Harry repeats. A wave of cool air hits them, practically blasts Louis in the face, which must mean they’re inside now.</p>
<p>Cool. Inside is a nice place to be. If Louis isn’t mistaken they’re inside the bus, and the bus has snacks and video games and weed.</p>
<p>Mmm. Weed.</p>
<p>“You seem like you’re mad,” Louis observes, poking him in the face again.</p>
<p>“I’m not mad, Louis,” Harry says, slapping his hand away. They’ve stopped moving now, come to a halt in the middle of the narrow aisle. Probably Harry’s trying to get him to go to bed.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t want to go to bed. He wants to know why Harry is frowning like that. Also why Harry called him <i>Louis</i> instead of <i>Lou</i>. It’s not that Harry never calls him Louis, but he doesn’t call him Louis. Not that much at least. Very rarely.</p>
<p>Only when he’s mad or upset or - </p>
<p>“Wait a minute,” Louis says excitedly, slapping Harry’s shoulder. “Are you <i>jealous</i>?”</p>
<p>Harry’s jaw tightens. “No.”</p>
<p>“Because it’s <i>Li</i>, Harry,” Louis continues, reaching up to poke at the dimple again. “Like, it’s only Li. I would probably puke all over him if we ever tried to do anything together.”</p>
<p>“I’m not jealous, Louis,” Harry says evenly, tapping Louis’ bum twice. “Get into the bunk.”</p>
<p>Louis gets into the bunk, but not because Harry told him to. Because it’s cold in here and he wants to be underneath his blanket all cozy and warm while Harry cuddles him to sleep. It’s all about what Louis wants, you see. He makes his own decisions.</p>
<p>“I saw his cock once,” Louis says sleepily, wiggling underneath the blankets and making himself comfortable. “Liam’s. It was a nice cock. Good size, not too veiny.”</p>
<p><i>Veiny</i>. Is that a word?</p>
<p>Before Louis can decide one way or the other, Harry’s squeezing the life out of him, arms wrapped around his back. Louis can’t talk, loses all of his words in the tight grip. He wheezes, whacking at Harry’s arms until they loosen. </p>
<p>“I <i>knew</i> you were jealous,” Louis says triumphantly, wiggling free of Harry’s arms altogether and climbing on top of him, sitting on his stomach.</p>
<p>Harry’s wearing an unimpressed look on his face as if Louis can’t see right through it. “I’m not.”</p>
<p>“Yes, you are,” Louis says, poking him just underneath his eye this time. Harry hisses and grabs his hand, wrenching it away from his face. “You’re super jealous. You want me to only look at your cock for the rest of your life. Do you want me to suck your cock right now? I could suck your cock right now.”</p>
<p>Harry sighs. It sounds much less tense now. “Right now all you could manage is to suck my cock for five seconds before passing out and scraping your teeth all over my dick. I think I’m gonna pass.”</p>
<p>“I’ll give you a blowie in the morning,” Louis says happily, thumping forward onto Harry’s chest and tucking his head underneath his chin. “Promise.”</p>
<p>“You’re gonna be fucking vomming all over the place in the morning,” Harry mutters, but Louis barely hears it, almost asleep.</p>
<p>Morning blowies. Yay.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Drunk And Disruptive Louis</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time Harry gets to the club, it’s just past two and his eyes are gritty from the lack of sleep. If he was slightly less tired he wouldn’t be doing this, would have gotten someone else to come and pick Louis up, but Harry’s tired and Louis had said <i>please</i> on the phone in that soft little voice he uses when he’s feeling vulnerable. Harry doesn’t make the best decisions when he’s sleep deprived, and right now he doesn’t even care about any of that, just wants to collect his boy and go home. If he’s lucky Louis won’t even spend the next two hours throwing up.</p>
<p>One can hope.</p>
<p>Despite the bouncer’s threats to throw him out, Louis is still dancing in the middle of the crowd, bodies pressing up against him from all sides. It hadn’t been hard for Harry to get in despite how crowded the club is - one of the perks of being easily recognizable, he supposes - and it had been even less hard to spot Louis, loud even through the thump of the music and a little flaily as he dances, all arms and elbows. It’s past two in the morning and Harry can’t help but be endeared by him.</p>
<p>Pushing through the crowd is a bit harder, but it’s something Harry is used to. He reaches Louis in no time, curling his fingers around his hips from behind and pulling him back flush against Harry’s chest. Louis yelps, stumbling backwards, feisty and fighting for a second before he recognizes the feel of Harry’s body.</p>
<p>“You came,” Louis breathes, twisting around and looping his arms around Harry’s neck. Flashes go off around them but it’s impossible to tell whether it’s the lights or the flashes of cameras. Either way, Harry doesn’t care.</p>
<p>“Said I was, didn’t I?” Harry asks, using his grip on Louis’ hips to start pulling him towards the exit. The bouncer had sounded truly pissed on the phone and just because he’s nowhere to be seen right now doesn’t mean he’s not going to pop up again and start yelling. That’s the last thing they need right now.</p>
<p>Louis beams at him, nuzzling Harry’s jaw. “You did.”</p>
<p>Huh. He’s being so sweet and docile. Maybe the bouncer was mistaken - this isn’t the trouble-making menace Harry knows Louis can be. No, this is the soft sweet boy who wants to be cuddled and kissed for a while.</p>
<p>Then Louis pulls back and narrows his eyes. “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>“We’re going home, baby,” Harry says, keeping his voice low. They make it to the door and he pulls Louis through it, out into the brisk night air. It’s not raining for once, which is a mild blessing. The people loitering on the street aren’t as much of a blessing.</p>
<p>Oh well. Harry’s tired, and he doesn’t just mean physically. He’s ready for this to be over, and he’s starting to think that come this time tomorrow, it’ll be indisputably over.</p>
<p>Louis pulls all the way out of Harry’s arms, flicking at his shoulder. “I don’t wanna go home,” he says stubbornly, loudly. “Wanna dance.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, you caused too much of a ruckus in there so you’ll have to dance somewhere else,” Harry tells him, making no move to try to grab Louis’ hands. He’s still too flaily for that. </p>
<p>“But I wanna dance in there,” Louis insists stubbornly. “I like their drinks.”</p>
<p>“If you didn’t get yourself kicked out of there you would still be dancing inside,” Harry says, tucking his hands into his pockets, watching as Louis’ expression turns outraged.</p>
<p>“They kicked me out?” he repeats loudly.</p>
<p>Harry bobs his head in agreement. “You were being loud and disruptive.” Exactly like he’s being now.</p>
<p>“Loud and disruptive?” Louis repeats, even louder. They have the attention of everyone around them now, probably have been recognized by at least a couple of people.</p>
<p>Harry can almost feel his dimple popping out of his cheek now. He tries to tuck it back, but it’s hard. When Louis gets like this, indignant and loud and drunk, it’s hard to hide that smile. “<i>So</i> loud and disruptive,” Harry agrees, and cuts off whatever shit Louis would have spewed off next with his mouth.</p>
<p>This time he’s sure the flashes going off around them are from cameras.</p>
<p>The kiss doesn’t last for long before Harry’s breaking it. “C’mon, baby, I’ll dance with you when we get home,” he says, tangling their fingers together.</p>
<p>“Promise?” Louis asks, letting Harry lead him towards the car.</p>
<p>“Promise,” Harry says, and it feels like the beginning of the rest of their lives.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Games</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The drabbles in this chapter are: Video Games, Tag, Watching The Game, The Floor Is Lava</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Unnecessary Competitiveness</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Video Games</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When the hell did you get so good at this game?” Louis complains, punching a few buttons on his controller haphazardly. It doesn’t do anything to help, and he loses. Again.</p>
<p>He remembers the days when he could beat Harry at this game with one hand tied behind his back. He probably could have even beaten Harry at this game with his eyes closed, that’s how bad Harry was at it.</p>
<p>“I’ve always been good,” Harry says smugly. </p>
<p>Louis makes a noise and tosses his controller into Harry’s lap. Orders, “Go get me a drink, slave.”</p>
<p>Harry sighs and makes a few grumbling noises, but he levers himself up and wanders out of the room anyway. Louis watches him go, frowning. Waits for seventy seconds to make sure Harry is really in the kitchen and hasn’t gotten distracted along the way. Then he moves, scrambling to get finished before Harry comes back.</p>
<p>He’s sweating a bit when Harry does, two glasses of red hanging precariously from one hand. Louis scowls and immediately gripes, “I hate when you do that, Harry.”</p>
<p>Harry raises an eyebrow, handing one of the glasses to Louis and reclaiming his seat, tugging at the blanket pointedly. “Got cold suddenly, baby?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Louis says, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a nice long swallow. It’s some fancy brand Harry likes, and Louis will never tell him but he’s pretty sure that wine in a box tastes exactly the same.</p>
<p>“Sure,” Harry says, clearly disbelieving, picking up his controller. “You ready for another round?”</p>
<p>Everyone who says that Louis is a sore loser is completely off the mark, so Louis picks up his own controller agreeably and they start another game.</p>
<p>Thirty seconds in, it’s easily apparent that it’s another match Louis is going to lose. That’s okay, though, because Louis has his secret weapon ready and he’s not afraid to use it.</p>
<p>Maneuvering himself into Harry’s lap without falling even farther behind takes some concentration. Louis barely manages it, and the only reason he does is because he knows exactly what kind of reaction he’s going to get once Harry realizes.</p>
<p>He can feel it, the second Harry falters. It isn’t the way he would normally react to Louis deciding to sit in his lap - Louis sits in his lap so often that Harry barely even bats an eye anymore, just shifts so his focus isn’t distracted from whatever he’s doing. Louis sitting in his lap with his arse bare? That’s always guaranteed to get him a reaction.</p>
<p>“Could’ve sworn you were wearing pants five minutes ago,” Harry says. His voice has already gone a little rough around the edges, and one hand drops off of the controller, worming its way under the blanket to wrap around Louis’ naked thigh.</p>
<p>“Five minutes is like another lifetime, Harold,” Louis says. He’s already gaining momentum, getting ready to pass Harry in the game. Harry’s wearing clothes today, albeit only a pair of ragged boxers and a vest, but Louis can still feel his cock firming up under his arse.</p>
<p>Already. He’s so fucking easy.</p>
<p>“Really,” Harry murmurs, low, setting his chin on Louis’ shoulder and tugging the blanket out of the way, exposing him slowly. “’Cause it feels like you only decided to be half naked to screw with my game.”</p>
<p>It’s working, too. Harry’s all but dropped the controller, too busy looking at Louis’ cock, and Louis is about to win the match.</p>
<p>“You’re very full of yourself,” Louis tells him. Or at least that’s what he means to tell him, except Harry chooses that very second to wrap his hand around his cock.</p>
<p>Louis is the one to drop the controller. He can’t help it, arching up into Harry’s firm, sure grip, head dropping back against Harry’s shoulder. “You thought you could just get up into my lap with your arse bare and I’d lose all focus?” Harry asks, his breath hot against the lobe of Louis’ ear. “Thought that I’m incapable of thinking straight around you when you’re naked?”</p>
<p>He has a history of being unable to think straight around Louis when he’s naked. Wisely, Louis doesn’t say that. “I was just uncomfortable,” he says instead. “Wanted to give my cock some room to breathe. Know you can understand that.”</p>
<p>“What I can understand,” Harry says, giving Louis’ cock a long, firm tug that has Louis’ eyes threatening to slip closed, “Is that you don’t like it when I’m paying attention to something that isn’t you.”</p>
<p>That is very firmly not true. Louis means to say that, he does, except Harry’s gone to thumbing at the head of his cock exactly the way he knows Louis likes, and all of Louis’ words get stuck in his throat. All he does is make a sound, one Harry would call a whimper and Louis would smack him for.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t smack him. Louis goes boneless in Harry’s lap, doesn’t mean to. Just kind of happens, and Harry takes advantage of it, mouthing at the underside of Louis’ jaw, almost a kiss. “So you always find a way to get it back, baby, don’t you,” Harry continues, hand speeding up on Louis’ cock, friction going from good to almost unbearably amazing. “And you know how I’m gonna react when you flaunt your naked arse in my face, no matter what else I’m meant to be doing. Always gotta take advantage of me.”</p>
<p>“Feels like you’re taking advantage of me right now,” Louis says. He manages to suck in a lungful of air, wiggling a little on Harry’s lap, and apparently that’s all it takes for Harry to decide that enough is enough. Before Louis even really knows what’s happening, he’s got two fingers up his arse and a mouth trying to suck the biggest lovebite in history onto his neck.</p>
<p>“I ain’t just trying, baby,” Harry drawls, and it’s so ridiculous Louis wants to laugh, but he can’t because he’s too busy coming.</p>
<p>What. Louis knows what it feels like when Harry’s gearing up to fuck him, and this isn’t it. This is Harry getting him off with a couple fingers inside him. And Louis isn’t one to make him wait for something they both know is coming.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Louis sighs eventually, slumped in Harry’s lap with Harry’s fingers still stroking away softly inside of him. It kind of hurts, but not so much that he’ll tell Harry to stop. Blinks his eyes open to see <i>GAME OVER</i> flashing on the screen, and underneath that the score letting him know that Harry won. Again. Even with Louis’ naked arse in his lap.</p>
<p>Bastard.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Louis says, pushing himself up with shaky hands, until he’s all the way off Harry’s fingers and can fall to the floor, twisting around and tugging Harry’s cock out of his pants with both hands. “I just want you to know that you don’t deserve this,” he informs Harry, but he’s not watching Harry’s reaction. He’s watching Harry’s cock bob in front of his face.</p>
<p>“Pretty sure I do,” Harry says. Louis isn’t going to dignify that with an answer, so instead he bends down just a little more and lets Harry’s cock slip into his mouth, past the seam of his lips and onto his tongue.</p>
<p>It’s. Look. Louis always has the same reaction to cocksucking, even when there’s no time and no privacy and he really shouldn’t be letting himself fall into it like this. He trusts Harry, and Harry has never let him take too much too fast, never let him choke on it even though Louis probably would if it were up to him, never let anyone walk in on them. There’s never been any reason not to react to it the way Louis does, the way he is now.</p>
<p>The thick, familiar weight of Harry on his tongue feels good, filling him up and drowning out all of his other senses. Louis isn’t conscious of time passing, just sucks and sucks and sucks, half aware of Harry’s hands in his hair and on the nape of his neck, murmuring soft words and praise. </p>
<p>Doesn’t know how long it takes for Harry to come, just swallows and keeps sucking until Harry pulls him off. Lets Harry arrange him however he wants, sleepy and happy and warm.</p>
<p>“Love you, baby,” Harry says. “You want me to let you win next time?”</p>
<p>Louis nods, half conscious and mostly out of it. Next time he’s going to win.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Tag</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Louis,” Harry calls, not even trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He can hear cackling coming from down the hall, so he heads in that direction, following the sound of laughter.</p>
<p>“Lou,” Harry tries again, once he’s gotten closer. “Caroline’s gonna be pissed, she sent me to get you an hour ago.”</p>
<p>“Ooh, Caroline’s gonna be pissed,” Louis says mockingly, and Harry should really have seen it coming but he doesn’t, so he rounds the corner to a face full of whipped cream.</p>
<p>Some days he second thinks his decision to be in this for the long haul. </p>
<p>Not really, but the thought is comforting.</p>
<p>“I hate you,” Harry groans, swiping mostly ineffectually at his face, trying to clear the cream off.</p>
<p>“I tagged you half an hour ago, Harry, you’re it,” Louis says impatiently, poking Harry in the face while he can’t really see properly. Harry swears and swipes at him, missing. “You’re so bad at this, honestly. It’s just tag, it’s not like it’s rocket science.”</p>
<p>The cream is finally cleared off enough that Harry can see. Louis’ standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised, clearly waiting for Harry to respond.</p>
<p>If Harry was slightly more mature he’d force Louis to go see Caroline before she really goes on the warpath, but instead he lunges and takes Louis down in a mess of flailing limbs, tickling his ribs until he’s breathless with laughter, squirming underneath Harry’s body.</p>
<p>The biggest benefit to being in this for the long haul is that he knows exactly how much it takes before Louis genuinely needs a minute to catch his breath, so Harry gives him exactly that much and then scrambles to his feet, calling, “Now you’re it!” over his shoulder as he runs back down the hallway, passing the rest of the boys along the way.</p>
<p>“Louis’ it,” he tells them, not waiting for a response, and there’s a mad dash as they all start running around the venue, just generally making a ruckus and hiding behind seats and tables and amps.</p>
<p>After twenty minutes, Louis’ pouting face becomes apparent enough that Harry just lies down on the ground and lets Louis catch up to him, climbing up onto Harry’s hips like he’s done it a thousand times before.</p>
<p>He has, but Harry will never be the one to tell.</p>
<p>“You’re it,” Louis informs him, poking him in the cheek. Harry grabs his wrists and doesn’t let him up, pulling him down so they can snog hot and heavy in full view of whoever happens to be wandering past.</p>
<p>“You guys are so gross,” Liam complains eventually, standing over them and throwing pieces of popcorn at them. Harry flips him off behind Louis’ back and keeps kissing him, until Caroline finds them for real and then it’s more like <i>she’s</i> it from how fast they’re all running away.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Watching The Game</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>By this stage in their relationship, Harry knows when Louis is abusing his looks to get what he wants. He’s doing it now, lying across Harry’s lap and blinking up at him drowsily, lips slightly parted, wearing an old, ratty vest that used to belong to Harry before Louis commandeered it and a pair of sweats that have seen better days. It’s pretty obvious he wants sex, has been hinting at it for an hour now.</p>
<p>Harry has been watching the game for the past hour or so, though, and he’s pretty into it. If he brought it up, asked Louis to wait, Louis would just scoff and reply <i>American football isn’t a real sport, Haz</i>, as if that’s actually going to get him laid.</p>
<p>It might. Harry’s been known to fall for even worse lines when they’re coming out of Louis’ mouth.</p>
<p>So Harry just doesn’t say anything, curling his fingers absently around Louis’ side and turning the volume up a couple of notches, intent on the sea of green and yellow jerseys on the field.</p>
<p>The peaceful quiet lasts for approximately three and a half minutes before Louis is squirming again, breathing out a long, tiny sigh from the back of his throat, drawing Harry’s attention back down to him.</p>
<p>It’s the kind of sound he makes when he’s turned on. Which, Harry realizes, he <i>is</i>. He’s got his right hand tucked down the front of his sweats, rubbing at his cock, pink flush high in his cheeks and eyes gone sweet and deep in their blue.</p>
<p>Instantly, Harry’s own cock starts to thicken up. He hadn’t even <i>noticed</i> Louis starting to get himself off, and he doesn’t know what that says about him. Probably something terrible.</p>
<p>“What’re you doing?” he asks, voice rougher than he means it to be. He lays a hand over Louis’, on top of the material, stilling him.</p>
<p>“Wanna get off,” Louis says, licking at his lower lip. “And you’re not paying attention to me so.” Shrugs.</p>
<p>Harry bends a little closer. “I’m watching the game,” he says, not close enough to kiss Louis like he wants to but close enough that their breath mingles.</p>
<p>Louis rolls his eyes, rocking his hips up none too subtly, trying to get Harry to grip him right, get him off. “Duh. That’s why I was touching meself ‘stead of asking you to do it.”</p>
<p>That’s not why. If he really wanted to let Harry watch the game he would be getting himself upstairs in the shower or something, or waiting as patiently as Louis ever waits, not stroking his cock right here on top of Harry’s lap. This isn’t letting Harry watch the game.</p>
<p>It’s a good thing Harry’s already TiVo’d it. Louis’ been needy and clingy all day, wouldn’t even let Harry out of the bed long enough to make tea this morning - he’d ended up carrying Louis downstairs and plopping him on the counter while Louis busied himself trying to distract Harry by being ridiculously pretty. It’s unfair, really.</p>
<p>Occasionally Louis will get into these moods, where he wants to stay close all day, pampered and taken care of, and Harry loves it when he does. There’s something about knowing he’s literally the only person in the world Louis ever does that with, literally the only person Louis would ever cling to like that, soft and sweet instead of his usual pushy demanding self. Honestly, Harry’s never really tried very hard to resist him when he’s in this mood.</p>
<p>He’s not going to start now.</p>
<p>“No,” Harry says, sliding an arm underneath Louis’ shoulders and hauling him up a bit, just a little, so their mouths can brush together with every word. “You want me to do it for you, you just want me to offer instead of you asking.”</p>
<p>Louis’ flush starts spreading down his neck. He squirms a little more, shaking his head weakly. “Nuh uh. Wanna do it myself.”</p>
<p>Harry lets their mouths press together, dips his tongue into the soft wet heat of Louis’, just for a second. “Really?” he asks, skeptical. “So if I said I’d be willing to eat you out a little you’d still wanna do it yourself?”</p>
<p>“You’re watching the game,” Louis says weakly, wiggling his hand out from underneath Harry’s and shoving his shirt up his belly so he can rub at his own nipples.</p>
<p>There’s no point in even pretending he’s going to finish watching the game. Not when Louis is unmistakably hard, cock tenting his sweats and hands rubbing at his own body where Harry’s should be.</p>
<p>“How could I be watching the game when you’re in my lap touching yourself?” Harry murmurs, wrapping his fingers around Louis’ wrists and pulling them away from his nipples, transferring them both to one hand so he can do it instead, rub lightly over the hard peak of Louis’ left nipple, flick at it gently.</p>
<p>Louis gasps, head tilting back, exposing the soft, scruffy line of his throat. If they were in their bed right now Harry would roll them over, get himself on top and work on sucking a mark into that stubbly skin, but they’re still on the couch and he only has a limited amount of space to work with. </p>
<p>“Been wanting my attention all day and don’t know what to do with yourself now that you’ve got it, huh,” Harry continues, shifting so Louis is cradled in his lap, arse pressing directly down against Harry’s cock. Louis is mostly quiet, fingers flexing in Harry’s grip, brushing against the side of Harry’s jaw. He’s being good, so good, little and quiet the way only Harry can make him, and what kind of person would Harry be if he didn’t reward that.</p>
<p>“I do, though,” Louis says softly, wiggling one hand free, letting Harry keep the other, and using it to shove his sweats down to his knees, so his cock bobs free, standing up straight, hard and lovely, and then reaches underneath his own arse to free Harry’s. “Gonna make you come.”</p>
<p>He’s so gorgeous, maneuvering himself despite the grip Harry’s still got on his wrist, struggling to climb into Harry’s lap. Harry doesn’t help him, transfixed by every curve of his body, lets him do it himself because he knows it’ll inevitably make Louis huffy and want to come that much more, and he ends up straddling Harry’s lap, knees on either side of his thighs despite the material of his sweats restricting him.</p>
<p>“You always do, baby,” Harry responds, maybe a little belatedly, letting go of Louis’ wrist in favour of gripping his bum and helping him start a slow slide. It’s dry, less slick than it usually is without lube, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is the feel of Louis’ skin, of his arse cheeks slowly splitting apart until the head of Harry’s cock rubs against Louis’ hole.</p>
<p>Louis whimpers a little, rocking faster. His hands come up to grip at Harry’s shoulders, nails digging in through the shirt.</p>
<p>Which reminds him. “Wanna take this off, baby?” he asks, sliding his hands up Louis’ back, underneath his shirt. The thought of getting his mouth on one of Louis’ nipples, biting it a little, makes his cock start to drip, pre-come wetting Louis’ hole, making the slide easier.</p>
<p>Louis struggles out of the shirt, flipping it onto the floor without care and sinks back down into Harry’s lap as if he was never gone. The game is still playing on the telly, remote long since lost, and Harry catches a glimpse of a rather spectacular pass before he’s leaning forward and fastening his mouth to that tempting nipple, biting down misleadingly gently.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Louis breathes, suddenly heavy in Harry’s lap, mostly limp. He always gets like this at some point, overwhelmed and unable to move, and Harry’s used to it. Knows how to move them in a way that’ll feel good for both of them, cock snubbing over the tight clench of Louis’ hole, only just threatening to push inside, and that’s all it takes for Louis to come.</p>
<p>“That’s it, baby,” Harry mumbles encouragingly, mouth still mostly full, holding Louis still as he grinds up into him, using his weight to get himself off. It doesn’t take long before Harry’s coming too, splashing warm come in the crease of Louis’ arse, up the small of his back. Louis holds still for it, so beautifully willing, and whines when Harry slicks a finger through the mess and slides it inside of him, just the tip.</p>
<p>“Love you,” Harry tells him, in case he’s forgotten in the past few minutes, and kisses Louis’ response out of his mouth. He misses the end of the game in favour of snogging Louis for so long their eyes start drooping, ready for a nap even though it’s barely one in the afternoon.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>The Floor Is Lava</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s bound to be an explanation for what Harry has just walked in on. There’s bound to be one, he’s sure, but, staring at the scene in front of him, he’s tempted to just turn around and walk out before he gets it. Getting involved in – whatever this is may only end in heartbreak and tears.</p>
<p>“Do I even want to know?” Harry asks Niall, sitting on a couch, well out of harm’s way.</p>
<p>“Probably not,” Niall says cheerfully, taking a bite of the unpeeled banana Harry hands him. Someone’s been drawing on his knee scar again, and this time around Harry can’t actually tell whether it was Louis or Liam.</p>
<p>“The floor is lava,” Liam informs him from where he’s perched atop of a bookcase. The entire bookcase looks dangerously close to swaying underneath his weight.</p>
<p>The floor is lava. Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?</p>
<p>“Right,” Harry says, and joins Niall on the couch, despite the prickling down his spine that wants him to march over to the rickety ladder Louis is sitting on and pluck him down from it.</p>
<p>Also, why the fuck is there a rickety ladder in the green room? Or an unsecured bookcase, for that matter? This can’t be up to code.</p>
<p>“I hope you’re both enjoying your slow, agonizing demise by way of molten lava,” Louis says. “Did you bring me a banana too?”</p>
<p>“No,” Harry lies. He’ll wait until this childish game is done before he hands it over. Knowing Louis, he’ll try to leap directly from the ladder onto the couch in order to avoid touching the floor and manage to injure all three of them in the process. “Niall is my favourite and he needs the potassium.”</p>
<p>Louis narrows his eyes. Preemptively, Harry holds up a hand and says, “If you die, I’m going to kill you.”</p>
<p>“Look, it’s not my fault that it’s very boring in here and Paul won’t let us go outside,” Louis says immediately. “If that makes me a child, so be it.”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Harry says, but he can’t stop the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Completely reasonable as always.”</p>
<p>Louis’ eyes narrow some more, and Harry’s only half prepared for it when he launches himself from the ladder directly into Harry’s lap. Luckily, he manages to avoid injuring himself or killing Niall in the process. The only damage is to the banana Harry’s holding between their bodies, which get completely crushed.</p>
<p>The actual banana, not Harry’s cock. That’s still completely fine, even if he does have to wrestle Louis into being still for a few minutes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Hysterical Literature</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings</b>
</p>
<p>Werewolves<br/>Chains<br/>Sex Toys<br/>Explicit Sexual Content</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s for science,” Louis reminds him breathlessly, index finger caught between the metal of the handcuff and the skin of Harry’s wrist. Harry looks back at him, at the sweet, pretty lure of his face, and thinks <i>it really fucking isn’t</i>.</p>
<p>He doesn’t say that. Instead, he nods once and doesn’t say anything at all. It’s easier that way. Louis can do whatever he wants and Harry can’t stop him and that’s the entire point of this experiment.</p>
<p>Maybe, anyway. The sharp bite of the wolfsbane laced metal is digging into his skin, just strong enough that he’s not going to forget it’s there any time soon, but the anxiety pulsing through his body makes him think that all it would take to break free is one good yank. Just one quick, strong pull against the handcuffs and Harry’s pretty sure he could be free. Little to no effort involved.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Louis says, wiggling his finger free and taking a step back. “Are you ready?”</p>
<p>Is Harry ready. Harry’s not the one who’s about to shove a vibrator up his arse, so he’s not really sure he’s the one Louis should be asking.</p>
<p>Harry’s claws scraping against the arms of the chair tell a different story. For now, he chooses to ignore that, nodding once again. Louis nods back, inching around behind the desk without ever putting his back to Harry, and Harry can’t honestly say that it’s an unnecessary precaution.</p>
<p>Technically, Louis already has the vibrator tucked away inside of him. Harry was entirely honest when he said that if Louis spent any time opening himself up for it where Harry could hear or smell him, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from lending a helping hand. By which he means completely taking over. So Louis has had the vibrator in him this entire time, turned off and waiting to be used. It’s already driving Harry a little crazy - the scent of Louis, wet and open, almost entirely him because he knows how much the smell of anything even a little different drives Harry up the wall when it’s on Louis’ skin, much less <i>inside him</i>.</p>
<p>“You should start,” Harry murmurs, taking care to keep his voice low, keep the growl out of it, “before I run out of patience.”</p>
<p>Patience is a virtue Harry doesn’t have much of, at least not when it comes to Louis.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Louis agrees, voice wavering almost inaudibly, so slight anyone other than Harry would have to strain to hear it. He sits down on the chair, picks up the book with one hand, and flicks a button on the remote with the other.</p>
<p>Immediately, the vibrator comes to life, buzzing audibly in the quiet of the room, and Louis swallows once before he starts reading. “When he was nearly thirteen my brother Jem got his arm broken badly at the elbow.”</p>
<p>He’s still talking, keeps reading, but Harry isn’t listening anymore. Paying attention to the lilt of Louis’ voice but not listening to the words, too busy focusing on the sweep of Louis’ eyelashes across his cheeks as he blinks, the nervous, slick way his tongue darts out to lick at his bottom lip, the tremble in his fingers as he tries to hold the book steady.</p>
<p>He’s not doing well, Louis isn’t. The vibrator is barely humming away inside of him, on the lowest setting, nothing to write home about, but he’s squirming all over his chair, buzzing out of his skin, five seconds away from breaking.</p>
<p>The smell of him, lilac and wet, aroused, feeds every one of Harry’s senses, and he doesn’t need a mirror to know that his eyes have gone gold. Blood is in the air, but it’s okay because it’s Harry’s. Louis is still reading, voice gone high and breathy, squirming so fucking prettily, fucking himself with a quaint little toy like it’ll ever be able to give him what he really needs, fill him the way he needs - </p>
<p>The metal holding Harry back snaps, and he lunges. Louis barely has time to let out a soft little squeak before Harry’s on him.</p>
<p>Really, though. What did he expect was going to happen.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Kids</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The two drabbles in this chapter are: Harry and Louis as children, and their first child.</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Children<br/>Fluff</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This mine?” Louis asks, poking the baby in the cheek. He looks up at his mum expectantly. “For my birthday?”</p>
<p>“No, sweetheart, that’s Harry,” his mum explains gently, crouching down next to Louis and taking his hand away from the baby’s cheek. “He’s Anne’s son, she’s visiting with us for the weekend.”</p>
<p>Louis looks at his mum and then back at the baby. “But it’s my birthday.” The baby wiggles in his cot, opening his eyes and looking right at Louis. His mouth opens into a beaming smile, chubby fingers reaching out for Louis’ through the bars of the crib.</p>
<p>“Your birthday isn’t for another three weeks, you little scamp,” his mum laughs, swatting him on the bottom. Louis stretched up onto his tip-toes so he can lean over the side and reach back down into it, grabbing onto the baby’s fingers.</p>
<p>“So my birthday comes early this year?” Louis asks, struggling to lift the baby out of the crib. He’s almost four and that means he’s big enough to pick things up, his mum said so.</p>
<p>The baby babbles something at him, laughing. Louis makes a funny face back and keeps lifting, struggling, until his mum helps him get the baby out of the crib and settled onto the floor. </p>
<p>“No, Louis, Harry isn’t your birthday present,” his mum says, ruffling his hair. “I’m going to get you some biscuits, make sure you play nicely. Gentle, okay?”</p>
<p>“Gentle gentle,” Louis parrots back, sitting down on his bum and stroking the baby’s cheek softly. He waits until she’s gone to tell Harry, “S’okay, mummies don’t always know what they’re talking about. You’re my birthday present and I’m gonna keep you forever.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Twenty-five years down the line, that promise comes true, and every time his birthday rolls around his mum tells him that she’s not getting him a present because she already gave him the best one. Louis can’t exactly disagree.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Harry’s a pretty heavy sleeper on a regular basis, so it’s a surprise to absolutely no one that he’s even worse now. He wakes up to the other half of the bed empty, sheets messed up and light from the hallway spilling into the room.</p>
<p>Chances are that Louis isn’t even doing anything - when Harry manages to get his eyes focused on the clock it reads 2:17, and they just put Amy down forty-five minutes ago with a full belly and a dry diaper, burped and swaddled. So there’s probably no real reason for Louis to be gone, but what kind of father would Harry be if he didn’t go to find out.</p>
<p><i>Father</i>. It’s still a little hard to believe.</p>
<p>Louis is in the nursery, rocking chair pulled up to the side of the crib, two of his fingers wiggled through the slats and holding onto Amy’s toes through her sleeper and blanket, and he’s singing softly, even though Amy is asleep, tiny little baby hat pulled down over her head.</p>
<p>They made her. Him and Louis, they made her.</p>
<p>“Everything okay?” Harry asks quietly, voice still sleep rough. He crosses the room and leans down over the top of the chair, bracketing his arms around Louis on top of the crib.</p>
<p>This is his <i>family</i>. This is pretty much Harry’s whole world right in front of him, and Harry loves them both so much that it nearly hurts.</p>
<p>“I missed her,” Louis says, just as quietly, stopping in the middle of his nonsense song. “Is that weird? I woke up and I missed her.”</p>
<p>“I missed her too,” Harry confesses, because even if he didn’t really notice he still felt it, the urge to see her, to watch her breathe, to make sure that she’s sleeping okay. “Do you - let’s move the crib into the bedroom.”</p>
<p>Louis twists around, looking up at Harry’s face. “Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Harry says. Now that he’s said it, it seems like the best idea in the entire world, being an arms length away from their baby girl in case she needs them. Harry doesn’t know how they didn’t think of it sooner. “You hold her and I’ll move it.”</p>
<p>Louis stands up and squirms out from between the chair and the crib, and Harry waits for him to pick Amy up, but he turns around and lopes his arms around Harry’s neck instead. “It’s stupid how in love with you I am.”</p>
<p>Harry tugs him closer, hands on his waist. “So incredibly stupid,” he agrees, and kisses Louis simply and quietly, in the room that their daughter is going to grow up in.</p>
<p>They are so in love that they’re almost stupid about it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Louis' Album Release</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Birthday Sex<br/>Desperate Attempts To Break Promises<br/>Light D/s<br/>Felching</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s incredible,” Harry murmurs, twisting his fingers in deeper. Louis bites back a whimper, throwing an arm over his eyes. His face feels like it’s on fire, so flushed he’s actually sweating from it. “Love every single song, the way you <i>sound</i> – ”</p>
<p>“Stop,” Louis gasps, unable to stop himself from rocking down on Harry’s fingers, trying to get more, get them even deeper, “You know I hate it when you – ”</p>
<p>Harry kisses him before Louis can finish getting the sentence out. It’s a slow, sweet kiss, and no matter what Louis does he can’t get Harry to move any faster. “You hate it when I compliment you, I know,” Harry says after a few minutes of kissing, his mouth still warm and slick against Louis’.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t, actually. It’s just – it’s so hard to stay in his own head when Harry’s doing it like <i>that</i>. Loving and sincere and two fingers deep.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Louis says, tugging on a strand of Harry’s hair, moving his arm just enough that he can catch a glimpse of Harry’s face. “Just – fuck me, okay?”</p>
<p>With a minute shake of Harry’s head, he rocks his fingers a little harder, pressing directly against Louis’ prostate. Louis makes a noise, hungry and desperate, pushing down against the feeling. Electricity feels like it’s melting his spine, making him easy for it, and all he wants is Harry’s cock. That’s the only thing he wants.</p>
<p>“You promised me,” Harry says, back to murmuring the words against Louis’ mouth, all over him in the best possible way. “Anything I want for my birthday.”</p>
<p>That promise feels like a lifetime ago now. Louis barely has the energy to fight it, slapping a hand against the bedside table, trying to get his phone to light up. With the way Harry’s pinning him down, it’s hard. Takes a minute before Louis can make out the numbers.</p>
<p>“It’s not your birthday for another eighteen minutes,” Louis says. He tries to grab Harry’s other hand from against his hip, tangle their fingers together. Harry resists, digging his fingers into Louis’ skin hard enough that Louis gasps, cock dripping.</p>
<p>“Anything I want, you said,” Harry tells him, circling his fingers gently. “Whatever I want for as long as I want.”</p>
<p>Louis said that when he was young and dumb. When his memory had been blurry about how Harry gets when they’ve been apart for too long. Definitely before he let Harry put his fingers up his arse.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but.” Louis has to stop to swallow, try to catch his breath. It’s hard to think properly when his brain feels like it’s leaking from his ears. “S’not your birthday yet. Still my day.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, and you’re only being like this because you’ve been listening to people compliment you all day and now you’re all overwhelmed and pretending to be shy,” Harry says. He drops his hand to squeeze Louis’ thigh, affectionate and warm. “Like you expect me to believe that you’ve ever been shy a day in your life.”</p>
<p>The problem, Louis thinks distantly, with letting the love of his life put his fingers up his arse is that said love of his life likes fingering way too much to ever rush it. And that’s on a good day – today, when Louis has promised him <i>anything</i>, Harry’s taking that way too literally.</p>
<p>“’m shy,” Louis mumbles, shifting, trying to curl more into Harry, leech some of his body heat. Harry set the air conditioning way too low. That’s the only explanation for the shivers racking Louis’ spine. It feels like Harry’s been making him wait for it for forever, and Louis is impatient at the best of times.</p>
<p>“You’re not,” Harry says. He slips his fingers out, and Louis nearly cries with relief, thinking <i>finally, he’s finally gonna put it in</i> – </p>
<p>A third lube slick finger is easing back inside him along with the other two before Louis can finish the thought. It’s completely unnecessary. Louis is already wet and open, been fingered for <i>ages</i> now. Harry’s cock could slide right into him, all the way down, and it’d be the easiest thing in the world.</p>
<p>Half an hour ago, Louis would have had his wits about him enough to tell Harry that. Forty-five minutes ago, he would have been able to shove Harry down against the bed and put it inside himself regardless of what Harry said. Now, he can barely string together enough words to let his discontent be known.</p>
<p>Fuck yesterday Louis for making all these grand promises. Yesterday Louis thought he was going to get fucked a lot faster than this.</p>
<p>Harry’s talking again. Louis hasn’t been listening. It’s easy to ignore Harry sometimes, when the sound of his voice is this deep, letting it wash over him, the cadence of it enough to send pinpricks of arousal throughout Louis’ entire body. It’s why phone sex is so good – even when Louis isn’t paying attention, he can still get off.</p>
<p>“ – so proud of you, baby, know how long you waited to be able to do this,” Harry’s saying, and Louis can’t take it anymore. Curls his fingers around a chunk of Harry’s necklace demandingly, tugging at it.</p>
<p>“Let’s talk about you,” he gets out, breathless and wanting. It’s so hard to ignore the way Harry’s eyes immediately snap to his mouth, watching him form the words. “Did that song with – um – ”</p>
<p>God, he can’t think straight. Harry’s fingers are big, pressing against all the best spots relentlessly, and it’s been so long since he’s fingered Louis for this long, this intently.</p>
<p>“Lizzo, yeah,” Harry says, slanting his mouth back over Louis’ like he can’t take watching it anymore. Kisses him short, matching the pace of his fingers. “She’s awesome, amazing, incredible. Don’t try to distract me.”</p>
<p>If Louis was capable of distracting him right now, Harry’s cock would already be inside him. And it’s not, so.</p>
<p>“Please,” Louis says, curling his fingers into Harry’s chest instead. Doesn’t care anymore that he’s been trying to hold off begging. He’ll do whatever it takes to get Harry inside of him. “Harry, please. Want your cock.”</p>
<p>“Mm,” Harry sounds out thoughtfully, dipping his head to bite at Louis’ throat. Louis gasps, tips his head back to let him, because even when he wants Harry’s cock so much it feels like he’s gonna die, he wants this, too. Wants Harry’s marks all over him. “What would you do for it?”</p>
<p>A day ago, Louis had been picturing being on his knees for it, looking up at Harry through his eyelashes. Sucking him off nice and slow until Harry couldn’t take it anymore, hauling him up to fuck him facedown on the bed. Figures that Harry would go and screw up that plan.</p>
<p>“Anything,” Louis says, the word slipping out of him before he can think about it. He really has to stop promising Harry that.</p>
<p>“Anything?” Harry asks, curling his fingers just right. Louis can’t catch his breath, can’t stop himself from making short, stuttering noises, ripped straight out of his chest. “You sure about that, baby?”</p>
<p>It’s an opportunity to take it back, take it all back, demand that Harry hold him down and fuck him until Louis cries, like how he originally pictured this night going. Instead, Louis breathes, “Yes, anything, Harry, please.”</p>
<p>Abruptly, Harry takes his fingers out. Louis grabs for his wrist to stop him, desperate and out of control. Misses. </p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry says, rolling off Louis, onto his back in the center of the bed, taking up so much space he’s all Louis can look at. He grips his cock with one hand, giving it a long, slow stroke. “Ride it, then.”</p>
<p>Under normal circumstances, that would be fine. That would be so good, actually, because no matter what position they’re in, getting Harry’s cock inside him is always like that.</p>
<p>“No,” Louis says weakly, even as he’s shuffling up onto his knees, trying to get the brain cells together to get his body to work properly. “I can’t – ”</p>
<p>He slides a leg over Harry’s hips, getting into his lap. It’s a struggle, so much of a struggle, and he hasn’t even tried to get it inside yet.</p>
<p>“Sure you can,” Harry says easily, holding his cock steady for Louis patiently. Louis can feel the hard brush of it against his arse, slick with lube, ready for him to sink down on it. “You want it, don’t you? So come on and take it.”</p>
<p>The problem is. The problem is that Harry intentionally fingered him into a whiny, desperate mess, because he knows what his fingers do to Louis if he does it long enough, and when he does that Louis has trouble getting his body to cooperate with him. Harry wants him to be frantic and slutty for it, bouncing on his cock until he comes without having to touch himself. That’s what Harry wants.</p>
<p>Louis really should have seen this coming. It’s what Harry usually wants when he gets to pick.</p>
<p>“Know what you’re doing,” Louis says, taking the hands Harry holds up to help him get into the right position, their fingers laced together mid-air. It’s unfair, that Harry’s strong enough to do that, hold some of Louis’ weight with nothing to brace himself against. Louis might have to accidentally kick him when he falls asleep.</p>
<p>Harry smiles up at him, sweet and fond, and the only reason Louis is going along with this is because it’s his birthday. “I know you do, sweetheart.”</p>
<p>This is why Louis doesn’t let him pick. It takes too long, Louis is impatient, and it makes him all spacy and clingy afterwards. There’s never enough time for it. Except today, because Louis intentionally made enough time for it. Maybe he did know what Harry would want all along.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna divorce you,” Louis says, holding onto Harry’s hands as the head of Harry’s cock breaches him, pushing past his rim.</p>
<p>“Did you forget that we’re not married again?” Harry asks. His smile has dropped a fraction as he concentrates on holding himself still for Louis to get it in, but it’s still unfair how beautiful he is. Louis might have to hold a pillow over his face to distract himself from it.</p>
<p>Talking helps him avoid focusing on how it feels, Harry’s cock sinking into him. If he lets himself feel it, Louis will come, and it’s Harry’s birthday. He can’t come yet. “Gonna – gonna marry you just so I can divorce you a month later,” he says, squeezing his eyes closed. Can’t look at Harry’s face when Harry’s looking at him like that.</p>
<p>“You say the sweetest things, baby,” Harry says, deadpan, but his voice has gotten tight. Louis concentrates on sucking in air as he finishes sliding all the way down, until Harry’s cock is all the way inside him, thick and hot.</p>
<p>“Don’t – you’re not allowed to talk if you want me to do this,” Louis warns him. There are sparks zinging their way up his spine, electric and tingling, and he already knows he’s not going to last very long. It’s been too long since he’s had Harry’s cock, and the first time he gets it after so long, Harry wants him to do it like <i>this</i>.</p>
<p>If Louis didn’t love him, he’d slap Harry across the face right now. Just to prove a point.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry agrees, but Louis has barely started to move before he’s saying, “Ah, yeah, baby, fuck, that feels so good – ”</p>
<p>“Stop, stop,” Louis hisses, bouncing a little faster, Harry’s words egging him on the way they always do.</p>
<p>“Sweetest, tightest little hole,” Harry says, and if Louis let his eyes open he would definitely come, can feel the way Harry’s looking at him, “Fuck my fist thinking about it when you’re not there, wanna cream you up, remind you who you belong to – ”</p>
<p>Louis sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it to try to keep some of the noises in, clutching at Harry’s hands so tight he’s probably leaving bruises. He’s gonna come, Harry’s cock thick inside him, pulsing hot and ready, so big it’s making Louis breathless. Tears threaten to slip past his closed eyes, so good it’s all Louis can think about, finally has Harry’s cock inside of him after so long.</p>
<p>“Gonna eat you out after,” Harry says, holding Louis’ hands tightly as Louis tries to pull one away, tries to get it down to his own cock so he touch himself, “Clean you up, get all of my come out just so I can do it all over again, make your hole all mine again – ”</p>
<p>“N-no,” Louis moans, overwhelmed just thinking about it. Knows he’s crying now, can’t stop himself, so close to coming with Harry’s cock pounding against his prostate. “Can’t, I can’t – ”</p>
<p>Harry transfers one of Louis’ hands, holding them both now with one of his own, big and strong. He could be holding Louis down right now but he’s not, making him do all the work. Harry uses his free hand to pinch at Louis’ nipple, the pain of it sharp and brief, making him gasp, mouth opening nearly soundlessly.</p>
<p>“Yes you can,” Harry says, voice gone deep, full of gravel. Louis shivers, picking up his speed, making noises with every breath. “You’re a good boy for me, baby, aren’t you? Such a good boy, gonna let me do whatever I want to you.”</p>
<p>It’s not a question, but Louis answers it anyway, eyes still closed, slurring out the words, “Yes, Harry, please, gonna do anything.”</p>
<p>“I know you are,” Harry murmurs, squeezing Louis’ wrists tighter. “Because you’re a good boy, such a good boy. Gonna let me come in this sweet little hole, yeah? Get you all dirty?”</p>
<p>Louis is coming, sobs nearly wracking his body from the force of it. It’s so good it almost hurts, cock spurting against his belly untouched, dripping come for long, endless seconds.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you are,” Harry is saying, and he tips Louis over almost before Louis is even finished, fucking him hard and deep. He’s still holding Louis’ wrists, above his head now, pinning them down against the mattress. It only takes him a few more thrusts before he’s coming, shooting off deep in Louis’ arse, filling him with it.</p>
<p>He barely gives Louis a minute to breathe before he’s pulling out, hands sliding under Louis’ hips to flip him over.</p>
<p>“C’mon, sweetheart, lemme see,” Harry says. Louis clenches up around nothing, hole open and wet, so much wetter than he was before. He can already feel Harry’s come trying to slide out of him, make him a mess.</p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s a good boy,” Harry tells him, pulling Louis’ hips up so his arse is in the air. Spreads him open so he can get a look. Louis stuffs his face into a pillow, muffling the noises escaping from his throat, sore and still so easy for it.</p>
<p>There’s no drifting off when Harry is like this, ducking down to seal his mouth over Louis’ hole. Louis cries out, reaching up to grab at the headboard for something to hold onto. Harry’s not gentle as he eats him out, tongue sweeping deep and sure. Louis can feel his thighs trembling, aching as they struggle to hold him up, and he’s barely even aware that he’s saying “Please, please, please,” over and over again.</p>
<p>He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for anymore. For Harry to stop, for Harry to keep going. Everything feels so good, so awfully good, like all the nerves in his body have been redirected to his cock, his arse.</p>
<p>Harry’s not talking anymore, at least. Can’t talk anymore, not with his tongue otherwise occupied. It’s a relief, not having to hear his mouth dripping with filthy words at the same time as he’s eating Louis out. That – having all of that at the same time would make Louis come again before he’s ready.</p>
<p>He’s hard again before he knows it. Maybe even never went all the way soft, Harry’s tongue too good as it licks into him. As abruptly as it started, it’s over, Harry’s pulling back, leaving Louis open and just as wet as he was before. </p>
<p>“Turn over,” Harry tells him, slapping at Louis’ arse once. Louis can’t bite back his moan, limbs heavy as he struggles to do what Harry says.</p>
<p>He’s barely on his back before Harry’s moving him, sliding his hands under Louis’ thighs to tilt his hips up. “Again?” Louis asks, voice shot, rusty.</p>
<p>“You think I’d only want you once?” Harry asks, taking a second to rub a few fingers against the head of Louis’ cock. “On my birthday?”</p>
<p>He doesn’t wait for Louis to answer, sliding back inside easily. Louis tries to wiggle his hips, help him, but Harry’s never needed the help when it comes to getting his cock inside Louis. Gets his entire cock stuffed in Louis’ arse before Louis can remember to take a breath.</p>
<p>“Want this sweet little hole all the time,” Harry says, holding Louis’ thighs against his sides as he starts thrusting, not bothering with slow and gentle. “Wanna fuck you awake every morning, come inside you so often you’re always dripping with it. So you remember you’re mine all the time, couldn’t forget even if you tried. Keep you well-fucked and naked, gorgeous boy. The way you deserve to be, yeah? All mine, all the time.”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh,” Louis agrees, head tipping back against the pillow as Harry gives it to him, never pulling his cock more than halfway out. His head is swimming, arousal clouding all of his senses, at that place where he’s easy and malleable. He’d agree to anything Harry says right now, all the fight fucked out of him.</p>
<p>It used to scare him a little, years ago. How Harry could get him to this place, where Louis would do anything Harry tells him to without thinking twice about it. How easy it would be for Harry to ask him to do something Louis would never agree to under normal circumstances. It doesn’t anymore, all that stuff long since talked through, and now all he has to do is whatever Harry tells him, just be good for him. Because Harry worked so hard to get him there, and now Louis can be good for him.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Harry says, tugging at Louis’ bottom lip until his mouth drops open, so he can kiss him, fucking his tongue inside the same way he’s fucking his cock inside. “Such a lovely, lovely arse, gonna make me come again, baby, you want it?”</p>
<p>“Please,” Louis breathes. His toes are curling behind Harry’s back, his entire body sensitive and overwhelmed. He’s not going to be able to come again untouched, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is giving Harry what he wants, letting him take what he needs. Doesn’t matter if he doesn’t get to come again, even though his entire body is crying out with the need for it.</p>
<p>Harry covers Louis’ cock with one hand, pressing it against his belly. His thrusts get short and shallow, head of his cock pressing against Louis’ prostate insistently. “Tell me.”</p>
<p>“Want your come,” Louis says, digging his nails into Harry’s back, barely able to get the words out from how good it feels, Harry’s cock splitting him open like this. “Want it all the time, wherever you wanna put it. Wanna take it for you, be good for you. ‘m yours, only yours – ”</p>
<p>Harry’s kissing him again, so hard he might be drawing blood. His hand strokes Louis’ cock, tight and perfect, and Louis is coming again a split second before Harry does.</p>
<p>He misses most of it, the wet pulse of Harry coming in his hole, vision nearly blacking out from his own orgasm. Harry’s swearing into his mouth, filth and praise all at the same time, and Louis slips away for a bit, knowing he’s been good.</p>
<p>When he comes back, Harry’s pulled out, cleaning Louis’ belly with gentle strokes of a warm washcloth. His face is still flushed and sweaty, hair curling more than usual against his temples. Louis reaches out with a trembling hand, trying to push it back.</p>
<p>Harry catches his wrist before it can get there, turning Louis’ arm so he can kiss the inside of his wrist. “Baby,” he murmurs, voice just as shot as Louis’ had been. He sounds like he does when he’s been sucking Louis’ cock for over an hour and refusing to let him come. “Hi.”</p>
<p>“Hi,” Louis says, content to let Harry hold his wrist for however long he wants to. “Happy birthday.”</p>
<p>Harry smiles, deep enough that his dimples come out in full force. He tosses the cloth into a laundry basket with perfect aim, lying back down and gathering Louis against his chest. “Thanks, baby. I love you.”</p>
<p>What a sap. He’s a sap with a big cock, though, one he knows how to use perfectly, so Louis will let him get away with it. “Love you too.”</p>
<p>He rubs his face against Harry’s chest for a second, glancing down between Harry’s thighs. Harry’s cock is still half hard and flushed, head sticky with come because he never cleans himself off before he does Louis. Louis swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, reaching for it.</p>
<p>Harry lets him, watching as Louis rubs his thumb across Harry’s slit, coaxing out a little more wetness like Harry hasn’t just come twice. Harry’s just like that, gets it up so easy, especially when they’ve been apart for a while.</p>
<p>“You know if you keep doing that I’m gonna want to put it in again,” Harry says. His voice has already starting deepening again, nearly hitting his sex register. </p>
<p>Louis sucks on his lip, glancing up at Harry’s face through his eyelashes, then back down at Harry’s cock in his hand. “I know.”</p>
<p>One more time won’t kill him. It is Harry’s birthday, after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Meme Answers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter contains my short meme drabbles, the subject matter of which varies greatly.</p><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p><p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Canon<br/>Alternate Universe<br/>Fluff<br/>Angst<br/>Male Pregnancy<br/>Superpowers</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You did all of this for me?” Harry asks softly, reaching out to touch the inside of Louis’ wrist.<br/>Louis scowls. “What. No. I didn’t do anything.”</p><p>Harry very carefully does not point out the spread of food and fancy set-up in front of them. Instead, he smiles to himself and lays a soft kiss on the corner of Louis’ mouth. Yeah, Louis did it for him.</p><hr/><p>“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice,” Louis shouts, flinging his arms out to the sides. “Am I just supposed to keep ignoring it forever?”</p><p>Harry’s heart is all the way in his stomach. He blinks and stares, can’t think of anything to say.</p><p>Definitely can’t think of anything to say when Louis adds, quieter, “Can’t believe you haven’t noticed the way I look at you.”</p><hr/><p>“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” Harry asks, amused. Louis only throws him a sultry look over his shoulder, patting his own bare arse like an invitation.</p><p>“What do you think, big boy?” Louis purrs, arching up just a little, just enough that the line of his body draws all attention to that bum.</p><p>Harry chews on the inside of his cheek, mentally calculating his schedule. Realistically, he has no time for this. He still has to shower and get dressed and make it all the way to the other side of town for his meeting.</p><p>But Louis’ bare arsed on his bed. So.</p><p>“I can do ten minutes in the shower,” Harry decides, spinning on his heel and making a run for the bathroom. Louis squawks indignantly but Harry hears him shooting up to his feet.</p><p>So. Ten minutes. They can totally make it in ten minutes, right?</p><hr/><p>“It’s not what it looks like,” Louis says, hunching over automatically, as if he thinks that’s really going to hide what he’s got cradled in his arms.</p><p>Harry raises both eyebrows. “Really? Because it looks like you’ve stolen Liam’s dog and are currently trying to put him into a ballet costume.”</p><p>“It’s not what it looks like?” Louis tries again, much weaker this time. He hugs the dog tight.</p><p>Harry sighs. “And the purpose of dressing the dog in a tutu is what exactly?”</p><p>“To fuck with Liam?” Louis offers.</p><p>Harry sighs again. “If I let you finish will you come and cuddle with me after?”</p><p>“No,” Louis says, petting the dog. “But if you let me finish I’ll let you finish.”</p><p>“That doesn’t even - “ Harry begins to protest.</p><p>“In my mouth,” Louis adds.</p><p>Suddenly, Harry doesn’t want to complain anymore.</p><hr/><p>“Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?” Harry asks, quirking his eyebrows.</p><p>Louis schools his face into a bland expression. “No.”</p><p>“You did,” Harry crows, looking like he wants to hug Louis. Louis fidgets and traces his fingers over the keys he has in his pocket. He’ll use them to stab Harry if it’s necessary, don’t think that he won’t.</p><p>“No I didn’t,” Louis says flatly. “Because I hate you and I want you to die.”</p><p>Harry peers at him, leaning in. “You’re warming up to me.”</p><p>Louis rolls his eyes and walks away. He’s totally not warming up to anyone.</p><hr/><p>“I love you,” Louis tells the mirror, trying to project a confidence he doesn’t feel.</p><p>Needless to say, he doesn’t really succeed.</p><p>“Fuck you,” he says, scowling at his own reflection. Tries again. “I think I’m in love with you.”</p><p>“Who are you talking to?” Harry asks, appearing in the mirror. Louis jumps and spins around, pressing a hand against his chest.</p><p>“Jesus, Harry, you scared me,” he half shouts.</p><p>Harry’s staring at him, deep and intense. “Louis. Who were you talking about.”</p><p>“No one,” Louis says, forcing a laugh. “You know me, I just talk to myself sometimes.”</p><p>It’s not a lie. Louis does talk to himself sometimes. Harry does it too.</p><p>Harry’s expression also says that he sees right through him. “Louis.”</p><p>“I think I’m in love with you and I’m <i>terrified</i>,” Louis blurts out, completely unintentionally.</p><p>Shit.</p><hr/><p>“Hey,” Harry says, entering the bedroom, still looking down at his phone, “have you seen the - “ </p><p>He looks up, has to pause to swallow. “Oh.”</p><p>Louis twists on the bed, completely naked, one hand curled around his cock and two fingers stuffed into his arse. “The what?” he asks, chest gleaming with sweat.</p><p>Harry has no idea what he’d been looking for now. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, practically tripping his way over to the bed.</p><p>“I’m perfectly capable of getting off by myself, Harold,” Louis says, fucking his fingers in a little deeper and arching up into his fist.</p><p>“But I like getting you off,” Harry protests, sinking down onto his knees beside the bed and reaching out to touch Louis’ thigh.</p><p>“Too late,” Louis grunts, arching up into his fist one more and coming, getting his belly all messy and pretty.</p><p>Harry sighs. “Now I’m hard,” he laments.</p><p>Louis swipes his fingers through the come and offers it to Harry to lick. Harry does, but he does it resentfully.</p><hr/><p>They’re twenty minutes into an after-party and the music is loud and thumping. There’s people everywhere, mingling and dancing and drinking and Harry’s eyes have been fixed on him for the past eighteen minutes.</p><p>It doesn’t take a lot to get himself into Harry’s space, leaning over a table to mix himself another drink.</p><p>“If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed,” Louis tells him, voice low, only for Harry’s ears.</p><p>Harry’s knuckles are white, fingers gripping his cup very hard. He slouches against the table, closer to Louis’ ear, and answers, “Beds are overrated anyway.”</p><p>His other hand cops a feel of Louis’ arse lightning fast, squeezing a shocked little gasp out of him. It’s dangerous - they’re in the middle of a room full of people they don’t know, after all - but Louis’ breath still catches, heartbeat still picks up.</p><p>Dick still twitches.</p><p>“Loo?” Louis suggests, straightening up despite his wobbly knees. Can’t risk looking at Harry’s face.</p><p>“Five minutes,” Harry agrees, peeling off to mingle, loud and boisterous, drawing attention to himself so Louis can slip away without being noticed.</p><p>It takes two minutes to make it to the loo, the one far enough away that they won’t be interrupted, around a few corners and down a few hallways. The one they got off in six hours ago.</p><p>Five minutes feels more like fifty, but when Louis checks his phone, impatient, knee jiggling and dick hard, it’s only been seven. Harry comes hurtling in a few seconds later, making sure to twist the lock behind him before he’s shoving Louis up against the wall and smashing their mouths together, teeth cutting and sharp as Louis opens up for it.</p><p>“Did you bring any lube?” Louis gasps, half lost in Harry’s mouth as he tries to suck at Louis’ tongue, hips rocking together, practically lifting Louis up onto his toes with every thrust.</p><p>“No time to stop,” Harry answers, one hand flying down to wrestle with the zip of Louis’ jeans, trying to get them open.</p><p>“So what - “ Louis starts, but Harry’s already dropping down to his knees, taking Louis’ trousers and pants down with him. “<i>Fuck</i>.”</p><p>Harry’s sloppy with it, sucking Louis’ cock down fast and easy, mouth tight and wet and warm. Louis’ knees buckle, nearly giving out underneath him as he flails for balance, hands flying into Harry’s hair and gripping him tight.</p><p>“Fuck,” he repeats, more brokenly this time, and lets his head bang back against the wall and closes his eyes, hips shifting restlessly as Harry works him over good.</p><p>He can’t move much, not with the way Harry’s holding him tight against the wall with one hand on his thigh, sucking and sucking and <i>sucking</i>, but it’s not going to matter much with how good it feels anyway.</p><p>It doesn’t take long for him to come, shooting down Harry’s throat because he doesn’t pull off, suckling at the head of Louis’ cock until he’s too sensitive to take it anymore and has to push him off.</p><p>“Fuck,” Louis says, laughing a little as his knees actually do buckle and he crumples to the ground slowly, aided by Harry’s hands. He waves a hand idly, not watching where it’s going. “Here, lemme help you.”</p><p>“No need,” Harry says, pulling Louis into his lap and kissing him, taste of come still lingering in his mouth. “You sounded so pretty I couldn’t help myself.”</p><p>Oh. That’s good, actually, because Louis probably wouldn’t have been able to do it anyway. He feels shaky and tired and <i>good</i>, and he probably won’t even be able to walk out of this bathroom on his own.</p><p>Oh well. Harry will figure it out.</p><hr/><p>Harry catches up with him about twenty feet outside of their bedroom, sending him crashing into the wall face first, breathing hot and fast against the back of his neck.</p><p>“You heard me,” he says, voice deep and thick, practically biting the words into Louis’ skin, “Take. It. Off.”</p><p>Louis’ knees are trembling, a bit. He clears his throat and answers, “But then I’ll be naked.”</p><p>Harry bites him, teeth sharp and raw on his back, just above his spine. “What makes you think I don’t want you to be naked?”</p><p>Louis can barely move to shrug, pressed up against the wall so tightly. He pushes back, barely gains an inch of space before Harry’s shoving him forward again, pinning him down. “Dunno. Just thought you’d wanna fuck me like this, I suppose.”</p><p>“While you’re wearing my favourite jersey and nothing else?” Harry asks, voice still deep and hot, rattling through Louis’ bones. “So you can get come all over it, make it a mess?”</p><p>“Wanted to give you something to remember me by,” Louis whispers, curling his fingers against the wall, smooth and rough all at once. Harry’s only gonna be gone for a week but it feels like forever already.</p><p>“Christ,” Harry mutters, pulling back. “Alright, go. Bedroom. Don’t take it off.”</p><p>Louis goes. Scampers the twenty feet into the bedroom, shaking his arse the entire way, and arranges himself on the bed as provocatively as he can manage, which he thinks is pretty damn provocatively.</p><p>Knows it for sure when he hears Harry’s sharp inhale the second he walks into the room.</p><p>“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Harry says, trailing his fingers over Louis’ back, material of the jersey bunching up over his bum. It doesn’t sound ironic.</p><p>Louis sways his arse a little, bare and prickling under the heat of Harry’s gaze. “You gonna fuck me to death?”</p><p>“Gonna fuck you until you can’t remember your own name,” Harry promises, pressing one hand to the curve of Louis’ arse while he fumbles around with the other one for a second.</p><p>His fingers come back coated in lube. He doesn’t waste any time fingering Louis open, one then two then three while Louis whimpers into the pillow, hips only held up from sheer force of will.</p><p>“I’m gonna miss you like crazy,” Harry says, pulling his fingers out and positioning himself up behind Louis properly, sinking his cock in just as fast as he had his fingers.</p><p>Louis hangs onto the sheets as Harry starts fucking him, thrusting deep and fast and exactly right, sending his cock bouncing underneath his stomach as he tries to breathe. It’s quick and he comes way too soon, but so does Harry so it kind of evens out.</p><p>After, when Harry’s finished cleaning them up and is holding Louis tight, arms wrapped around his back, he says, “Never gonna be able to look at that jersey the same way again, you know.”</p><p>Good.</p><hr/><p>“Come over here and <i>make me</i>,” Louis shouts, brandishing his water bottle like it’s a weapon. Harry doesn’t even hesitate, charging forward and sweeping Louis off his feet entirely, throwing him over his shoulder as if he weighs nothing more than a feather.</p><p>Louis shrieks, high-pitched and loud, and beats Harry’s back with said water bottle, feet swinging as Harry carries him - somewhere. Probably to clean up the mess he’s made.</p><p>That guess turns out to be correct when Harry sets him down again in the dressing room, full of Louis’ stuff scattered all over the place, bag completely empty and lying overturned on the middle of the floor.</p><p>“Clean it,” Harry orders, keeping a solid grip on Louis’ wrists so he can’t run away again.</p><p>“No,” Louis says, trying to wiggle away half-heartedly. “You clean it.”</p><p>“It’s not my mess,” Harry says, transferring both of Louis’ wrists to one hand and hauling him in closer by a belt loop, pressing their hips flush together.</p><p>“But I don’t <i>want</i> to,” Louis complains. He could probably pull away now that Harry’s only holding him with one hand, but why would he want to? This is heading in a very nice direction.</p><p>Harry kisses him gently, swiping his tongue across Louis’ bottom lip but pulling away when Louis opens up for him. “But if you clean up your mess I’ll get you off,” he murmurs, squeezing Louis’ wrists.</p><p>Well, if he’s going to add some <i>incentive</i> to it. Louis cleans in record time.</p><hr/><p>“Please don’t do this,” Louis says, voice small and cracking. He huddles into himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. Can’t bear to look at the way Harry’s shoving clothes into a bag without even bothering to look at them.</p><p>“I can’t do this anymore,” Harry says, still packing clothes. “I love you more than I’ll ever love anyone else in the entire world, probably, but there’s gotta be limits about what I’ll do, right? This is it. I can’t take it anymore. I just. It’s breaking my heart, Lou, and I can’t be putting the pieces back together every day.”</p><p>He zips up his bag and hefts it over his shoulder. Louis can’t think of anything to say, knows that there’s only one thing that would change Harry’s mind. Isn’t ready to say it.</p><p>This is it, then. The only thing he can do is watch Harry walk out the door, throat tight and eyes dry. This is it.</p><hr/><p>Louis knows, with absolute certainty, that Harry’s going to be happy. That he’s probably going to cry, that he’s going to be overwhelmed and maybe a little scared but ultimately so happy.</p><p>Louis’ hands are still shaking.</p><p>That’s how Harry finds him, sitting on their couch with his hands clasped between his knees, still trembling.</p><p>“Lou?” Harry asks, pausing with two bottles of beer held in one hand. “Alright?”</p><p>“I’m good,” Louis says, realizing that it’s true. He is good. Nervous, yeah, obviously, but he’s good. Happy. </p><p>Gonna have a baby.</p><p>“Okay,” Harry says, eyebrows not lowering. He sits down beside Louis on the couch and offers him one of the bottles.</p><p>Louis shakes his head sharply. “Can’t.”</p><p>“What?” Harry asks, brows furrowing even more. Louis clears his throat and turns to face him, tucking his legs up underneath himself and taking both of Harry’s hands, squeezes them a little.</p><p>“I can’t drink,” he says. Harry’s face doesn’t clear, still confused. “Harry. Babe. Darling. Love of my life. I can’t drink for the next nine months. Actually, longer than nine months, probably.”</p><p>Understanding blooms across Harry’s face like a flower opening. “You’re - “</p><p>“I’m pregnant,” Louis says, kicking his legs out over Harry’s lap. “You done knocked me up.”</p><p>“Lou,” Harry breathes, grappling with Louis’ hands and pulling him entirely into his lap, arms slipping around his back in a hug so tight Louis can barely breathe. “Lou, you’re pregnant?”</p><p>“I’m pregnant,” Louis agrees, grabbing one of Harry’s hands back and shoving it up underneath his shirt, on his belly. “You put a baby in me.”</p><p>Harry’s mouth is crushing as they kiss, demanding and loving and everything in between. </p><p>Louis’ pregnant.</p><hr/><p>“You lied to me,” Louis says numbly, hands lax and unmoving at his sides. Nearly five years and the only times Harry has ever lied to him have been superficial, about the way a pair of pants looks on his bum or whether orange is really his colour.</p><p>This is different. This is the most different.</p><p>Harry’s watching him break apart right in front of him, the expression on his own face just that - broken, terrified. He looks like he thinks Louis is going to walk out the door and never come back.</p><p>Louis might.</p><p>“I couldn’t tell you,” Harry says miserably, shoulders hunching down, making himself smaller, less of a threat. “I wanted to so many times, baby, but I just couldn’t.”</p><p>“Because you thought I was going to tell someone?” Louis asks, voice cracking. “You thought I would do that to you?”</p><p>This might be their entire relationship falling apart right here. Louis is still too numb to figure out how he feels about that.</p><p>“No,” Harry says, frustrated. “Maybe the thought crossed my mind at first, but not for years. I trust you, Louis, wholly and completely, but it’s not just about me, okay? It’s my entire family.”</p><p>“Why now?” Louis asks instead of addressing - any of that. It’s the question that’s been weighing on his mind for the past two hours. <i>Why now</i>. Why right now. Why when their relationship was headed in one particular direction.</p><p>Louis is almost one hundred percent sure that Harry had been days away from popping the question. He has a ring stuck in the back of his sock drawer in the event Harry takes too long to get around to it. They were going to get <i>married</i>.</p><p>“You made me angry,” Harry says, still frustrated. His shoulders are coming up out of his chest.</p><p>Bullshit. That’s fucking <i>bullshit</i>. “I make you angry every goddamn day, Harry, and you’ve never frozen my hands to the table before,” Louis says, curling his fingers around the edges of one of the throw pillows on the couch. Gemma picked out the ugliest ones she could possibly find and then made Harry keep them on their couch under threat of death. Louis is thinking this is a good time to destroy them.</p><p>And everything else, possibly.</p><p>“You - “ Harry says, still frustrated, and then stops, taking a deep breath. “I can normally control it,” he says instead. “The first time we had sex I was like, this close to freezing you to the bed, but then I didn’t and I thought I was in the clear. I worried about it a few more times but I thought that if I managed to keep it under wraps the first time I fucked you then everything else would be okay, you know? And for the most part it was.”</p><p>Louis listens. He’s still angry enough that he doesn’t want to, but he owes Harry that much, he thinks.</p><p>It has been five years, after all.</p><p>“Don’t get me wrong, there were times I wanted to freeze you to something just so you would stop annoying me, but it was manageable,” Harry continues.</p><p>“So what changed, then?” Louis demands. The door is looking more appealing with every passing second.</p><p>“I know that you know that I bought a ring,” Harry says, looking Louis right in the eye.</p><p>Louis flounders. Can’t think of anything to say. Can’t deny it, doesn’t want to, but can’t admit it either. Can’t say <i>yes, I know you want to marry me</i> when they’re in the middle of the biggest fight of their lives.</p><p>Ends up not saying anything. Harry huffs out a laugh that’s entirely unamused and says, “Yeah. Couldn’t manage to ask you while I was still hiding this from you, but couldn’t convince myself to just tell you, either. My brain decided to fix the problem for me without my conscious input.”</p><p>There’s no saliva in Louis’ mouth and his tongue is stuck. “That’s it,” Harry says, shrugging a little. “I couldn’t ask you to marry me knowing there was this huge thing still between us.”</p><p>Louis just. He hurls the pillow at Harry and stands up, stomps over to him and slaps him right in the face, leaving a red mark on his skin. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, you fucking arsehole, but first I’m gonna be mad at you for lying to me for <i>five fucking years</i>. So you better come up with the best damn proposal ever, you got that?”</p><p>He lets Harry kiss him for a while before he kicks him out. They’re not technically engaged and Louis is still really fucking angry, but his heart is still blooming wide open in his chest.</p><hr/><p>“So?” Louis asks, raising his eyebrows expectantly, holding five cans of spray paint between his hands.</p><p>“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had,” Harry says. “Of course I’m in.”</p><p>“Excellent,” Louis says, shoving three of the cans into Harry’s hands. “You do the top and I’ll do the bottom, yeah?”</p><p>“Oh, sure, so I’ll be the one who gets the blame if we get caught,” Harry says, but he’s already taking the cans and shaking one before popping the cap off.</p><p>Louis shoots him a smirk, cocksure and pretty. That’s really the only reason Harry’s going along with this. “You can tell yourself that I wouldn’t have blamed it on you anyway, but we both know that you won’t be able to convince yourself,” he says, squeezing in between Harry and the wall and then dropping down to his knees, back of his head brushing against Harry’s hips.</p><p>Harry swallows and starts spraying. He better be getting laid after this, that’s all he’s saying.</p><hr/><p>“Tell me a secret,” Harry whispers, talking to Louis’ belly more than he’s talking to Louis himself. Louis runs his fingers through Harry’s hair, scratching against his scalp.</p><p>“You’re pretty much my favourite person,” he murmurs, other hand picking at the come that’s slowly drying on his belly.</p><p>Harry pushes his entire face against Louis’ hand. “That’s not a secret.”</p><p>“I think it is,” Louis says, but he relents with the first sharp nip of Harry’s teeth against his bare skin. “Sometimes I just want to say fuck it and do things our own way.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry says, agreeing without even having to say the words, and it’s not what he meant when he started this conversation but.</p><p>He pushes himself up and kisses the sour twist right off of Louis’ mouth, thinks <i>just a little while longer, baby</i>.</p><p>Knows Louis can hear it.</p><hr/><p>“I think we need to talk,” Harry says. Louis ignores him and keeps mashing buttons on his controller, scoring a goal.</p><p>“Fucking right,” Louis mutters, but he’s talking to the game, not Harry.</p><p>Harry doesn’t feel remotely bad about unplugging the telly altogether. “Oi, what’re you doing?” Louis demands, setting the controller down at his side.</p><p>“We need to talk,” Harry repeats.</p><p>Louis raises his eyebrows. “Does it have to be in the middle of my game?”</p><p>“Yes,” Harry says firmly. “I need you to pay attention to me.”</p><p>“I’m paying attention now, Harry, what do you want?” Louis says impatiently.</p><p>No. “I need you to <i>pay attention to me</i>,” Harry stresses, all too aware of the way Luke is napping on the couch at Louis’ side, head tipped back at an awkward angle.</p><p>“<i>Oh</i>, it’s booty call time,” Louis says understandingly, kicking the controller onto the floor. “You should have said, Harold.”</p><p>“Take your gross booty call up to the hotel,” Luke mumbles, turning over onto his side, facing away from them.</p><p>“I hate your friends,” Harry sighs. Luke flips him off. </p><p>“Well, if that’s the way you feel maybe I’ll just spend the night with Luke instead of you, then,” Louis says, eeling his way determinedly into Luke’s arms.</p><p>Luke pats Louis’ belly, eyes still closed. Harry isn’t jealous - that friendship is a weird one and one that’s way more homoerotic than it has any right to be, considering how straight Luke is, but there’s nothing more than friendship there - but he still wants his booty call. Wants the warmth of Louis in the bed beside him.</p><p>Mostly wants sex.</p><p>“I’ll do that thing you like,” Harry cajoles.</p><p>Louis looks at him, pursing his lips. Luke peeks one eye open and promptly closes it again. “You guys are gross.”</p><p>“Okay,” Louis decides, lifting his arms. “But I’m tired and you have to carry me.”</p><p>Of course he is. It’s not the first time Louis has arbitrarily decided that he’s too tired to walk and made Harry carry him, and it won’t be the last.</p><p>Still. If it’s going to help appease Harry’s horniness. He picks Louis up.</p><hr/><p>“You fainted,” Harry says, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, even as he holds Louis up so his head doesn’t split open on the pavement. “Straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”</p><p>God, he’s such an arsehole. Such an unfairly attractive arsehole. If he wasn’t holding Louis up right now Louis might punch him in the dick, knock him down a peg.</p><p>“I have low blood sugar,” Louis says, squinting against the sun. “Also, I would have rather cracked my head open on the pavement then have you catch me.”</p><p>“Oh, my bad,” Harry says, hands loosening underneath Louis’ back.</p><p>He’s not serious and Louis knows it, but he can’t stop himself from scrambling to grab at his arms anyway. “Fucker,” Louis spits, still caught up in the tight grasp of Harry’s hands.</p><p>“I would love to,” Harry says politely, drawing him up slowly, muscles flexing underneath Louis’ hands.</p><p>“You’d like to get a taste of this arse, wouldn’t you, babe,” Louis says, resisting the urge to back away, to flee. He doesn’t let pretty boy jocks push him around, even if they do have two inches and at least ten pounds of muscle on him.</p><p>“Yes,” Harry starts, clearly not finished talking.</p><p>Louis cuts him off. “Too bad you’re not gonna get the chance, huh, sweetheart,” he says, patting Harry a little bit too hard on the face and walking away.</p><p>Getting his attention by fainting. Honestly. There’s something wrong with this boy’s brain.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Mpreg</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These drabbles are unrelated to my mpreg fic WIP and to each other. They are: Nesting, Positive Test, Pregnancy Sex (Canon)</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Male Pregnancy<br/>Fluff<br/>A/B/O Dynamics</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Nesting</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s half five in the morning and Harry is staring bleary eyed into his closet. His <i>empty</i> closet.</p>
<p>It’s too early in the morning to be this confused. Harry’s brain hurts from a lack of caffeine, but he’s pretty sure there’s supposed to be roughly sixty shirts in there. There’s no way all of them are dirty. Right?</p>
<p>“Lou?” Harry calls, wandering out into the hallway in his bare feet. Louis wasn’t in bed when Harry woke up, which isn’t really that unusual - jet lag has always been tough on him, and now that he’s pregnant it’s only gotten worse. Usually he gets up and makes himself a cuppa, watches some telly or obsessively browses baby stores online, making list upon list of things they need even though they finished the nursery two and a half months ago. Maybe once the baby actually comes they’ll realize they need something else, but for now they should be okay.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t answer. Harry takes the stairs two at a time, checking the kitchen and the living room and the laundry room and the bathroom and even the home gym, even though he has no idea why Louis would be in there, peeks outside even though it’s winter.</p>
<p>Doesn’t find him.</p>
<p>Harry’s brow furrows as he climbs the stairs back up to the second floor. If Louis was up there he should have heard Harry calling for him.</p>
<p>It only takes a couple more minutes to find him. He’s in the nursery, fast asleep in a pile of clothing on the floor.</p>
<p>Well, that explains where all of Harry’s shirts have gone.</p>
<p>Louis is wearing one of them, a soft, oversized tee that’s too big on Harry so it’s downright <i>gigantic</i> on him, and boxers, waist tucked under the swell of his belly so it’s bare, shirt rucked up from the way he’s sleeping.</p>
<p>Harry’s heart swells in his chest. He’s read about this, the way some omegas will start nesting when their due dates start approaching, but for some reason he never expected it from Louis.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t really have to be anywhere this morning. Technically he’s got a meeting, but that can be postponed for a few hours, so he shoots off a quick text before joining Louis on the floor. The nest he’s made is surprisingly comfortable, plush and padded underneath Harry’s arse. Louis stirs a little but doesn’t quite wake.</p>
<p>“Hi, baby,” Harry murmurs, laying a hand carefully over the swell of Louis’ belly, propping himself up on an elbow. “You being difficult for daddy this morning?”</p>
<p>As if responding to his voice, baby kicks. Harry smiles, ducking his head to press a soft kiss to the spot her foot had made contact. “I know, I know,” he soothes, keeping his mouth close to Louis’ belly. “Just a few more weeks and then you’ll be out here in the world with us, I promise. Just gotta finish cooking first, yeah? Get all big and strong.”</p>
<p>Sometimes Harry will sit down and <i>really</i> think about the fact that in three weeks they’re going to have a beautiful little girl in their hands and he nearly cries. At the beginning of the pregnancy Louis had made fun of him for it, but now he starts tearing up when Harry does. Pregnancy has turned him into a sympathetic crier, apparently, so Harry tries not to do it too much.</p>
<p>Baby kicks again, more demanding this time. Harry presses another kiss to Louis’ belly and starts singing to her, low and quiet so he won’t wake Louis. It’s a song he’s been working on the past couple weeks, and he hasn’t quite worked all the kinks out, but it’s getting there. It’s sounding pretty good.</p>
<p>“Think she’s asleep,” Louis says, voice rough with sleep. “Think you sung her to sleep. Gonna have to put that skill to use a lot when she’s born.”</p>
<p>Harry gives Louis’ belly one more kiss before crawling up his side to kiss his mouth instead. “I will,” he murmurs, promising. Tugs at the neck of Louis’ shirt. “Want me to move all of this into the bedroom for you so you can sleep on the bed?”</p>
<p>Immediately, Louis scowls, pushing him away. “Shut up,” he grumbles. “I’m nine months pregnant, you arse, don’t make fun of me for doing what my instincts are telling me to.”</p>
<p>“I’m not!” Harry protests, rocking back onto his knees. “Just want you to be comfortable, s’all. Don’t want you to sleep on the floor if it’s gonna hurt your back.”</p>
<p>Louis grunts, sitting up with a little effort. “Shut up,” he repeats, more of an order this time, throwing a shirt at Harry’s head. “You’re the one who did this to me in the first place, dickhead, leave my irrational instincts alone. I’ll sleep on the damn floor if I want to.”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t say anything. He knows a losing battle when he sees one and the last thing he wants to do is make Louis angry at him again. Last night he yelled at Harry for bringing him herbal tea instead of black for so long he almost made himself cry.</p>
<p>Louis scowls at him some more. “Help me up,” he demands, holding his hands out. Carefully, Harry hoists him to his feet, giving his belly another rub.</p>
<p>“Just another few weeks,” he promises, both to the baby and Louis. “I love you.”</p>
<p>Louis shoulder thwacks him, pushing past Harry and into the hallway. “Bring the nest into the bedroom!” he shouts, already halfway down the hall.</p>
<p>Harry rolls his eyes, but he starts gathering up the clothes.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Positive Test</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry gets the text at 3:34am on a Tuesday. He wakes up to get a glass of water, pads back to the bed in his bare feet, and checks his phone out of sheer force of habit.</p>
<p>For a second, his bleary eyes aren’t sure what he’s seeing. It’s a photo, but he can’t figure out -</p>
<p>“Holy shit,” he breathes. The phone slips from his numb fingers, lands on the floor between his feet. He fumbles for it, knocks it under the bed and has to spend the next two minutes searching for it.</p>
<p>Once he finally finds it, he immediately pulls the picture up again and spends the next five minutes staring at it with his hand pressed against his mouth, unbelieving.</p>
<p>Positive. It’s positive.</p>
<p>Louis answers on the second ring, even though it must barely be ten in London and he normally doesn’t get out of bed until at least noon. There’s tears in Harry’s eyes as he says, “Lou,” voice cracking.</p>
<p>“C’mon, now, babe, there’s no need to cry,” Louis says chidingly, something in the background rustling like he might still be in bed.</p>
<p>Harry’s properly crying now, huddled on the floor of a cold hotel room in L.A. by himself. “Pretty fucking sure there is,” he manages through his tears, unable to stop smiling down at nothing. “You - you’re sure?”</p>
<p>“Pretty sure,” Louis says, the cheer in his voice breaking a little, but only because he’s starting to cry too, Harry’s pretty sure. “Haven’t been to the doctor, yet, but there’s ten other piss coated sticks sitting in the rubbish bin that all say the same thing. So. You know. Pretty sure you’ve gone and knocked me up.”</p>
<p>He’s <i>pregnant</i>. Louis is pregnant. Harry can’t stop crying. </p>
<p>“Didn’t wanna go without you,” Louis adds, voice softer. There’s still the hint of tears in his voice, but he’s much calmer than Harry is right now. Probably Harry’s face is a mess of snot and tears. “Would’ve waited until you got back to take the tests but I spend the past three days throwing up all over the place, so. Couldn’t really wait any more.”</p>
<p>“I love you,” Harry says suddenly, abruptly. “God, baby, can’t believe you’re gonna have our baby.”</p>
<p>They hadn’t even been trying, really. A couple months ago they decided that Louis was going to stop taking the birth control and that whatever happened happened, but they haven’t actively been <i>trying</i>. </p>
<p>Harry’s an emotional wreck. He just wants to be holding Louis in his arms. Louis, who’s got a <i>baby</i> in him. </p>
<p>“I love you too,” Louis says, sniffling a little. “Now come home.”</p>
<p>Harry’s in L.A. for a reason - he can’t just drop everything and go home just because Louis peed on a stick.</p>
<p>Harry drops everything and is on the first flight back to London.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Twelve hours later, Louis meets him at the airport and the paps get a pretty good series of photos of the two of them clutching each other and crying while they kiss.</p>
<p>They’re having a <i>baby</i>.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Pregnancy Sex (Canon)</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>One of the worst things about being pregnant is the constant need to pee. Ever since Louis hit the sixteen week mark he’s needed to pee practically every hour on the hour during the day, and at least twice during the night. It’s the worst.</p>
<p>He’s coming back from one of those middle of the night pisses now, grumpy at having to wake up yet again, climbs back into bed grumbling under his breath about how unfair life is. The light in the bathroom is still on so he can get up again in forty-five minutes to empty his bladder, bathing the room in a really soft light.</p>
<p>That’s when Louis notices it. “<i>Ugh</i>, are you kidding me?”</p>
<p>It’s not loud enough to do more than rouse Harry into mumbling something, arm sweeping out on the sheets like he’s searching for Louis’ body. Goes still when he doesn’t find anything, falling back into sleep easily.</p>
<p>Louis stares at him for a minute. Or. Well, he stares at the part of Harry that’s making an impression, anyway.</p>
<p>“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Louis says, poking at Harry’s cock where it’s tenting the sheet. “This is how we got into this situation in the first place, you know.”</p>
<p>Harry stirs, eyes blinking open sleepily. “Lou,” he murmurs, and he probably means it to come out a question but it doesn’t. “Go back to sleep, baby.”</p>
<p>Oh, Louis would <i>like</i> to go back to sleep. He really, really would, because he’s still tired and grumpy, but the thing is - the thing is that Harry’s cock is clearly hard. Harry’s cock is clearly hard and Louis is six months pregnant and horny almost as much as he needs to pee. And Harry’s cock is hard.</p>
<p>“Harry,” Louis says pleasantly, poking at the lump under the sheet again. “I really hate you right now, but I’m going to need you to put this inside of me.” Pokes at Harry’s cock again for emphasis.</p>
<p>Harry groans, making an ill-judged grab for Louis’ hand and missing. “Baby, I love you very much, but I’m fucking <i>tired</i>.”</p>
<p>It’s three in the morning and Harry spent ten hours on a plane, landing in London just before midnight, and he hadn’t even bothered waking Louis up properly when he got home, just curled around him in the bed.</p>
<p>“And you think I’m not?” Louis demands, ripping the sheet off and letting it bundle at the end of the bed, shuffling along the mattress on his knees until he’s close enough to tug Harry’s briefs down, only as far as his knees. If he wants them the rest of the way off he can do it himself. “You did this to me so now you get to deal with the aftermath.”</p>
<p>“The aftermath?” Harry says, amusement colouring his tone. He doesn’t protest any more as Louis hauls his own shirt off over his head before kicking his pants off, uncaring of how they’ll probably end up tangled in the sheets by the morning. “Think you’re skipping ahead a bit.”</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Louis orders, leaning over Harry’s body, digging through the table on his side for the lube.  So what if he gets lonely when Harry’s away and sleeps on his side of the bed, hence the lube being on the wrong side. That’s no one’s business but Louis’.</p>
<p>Harry groans again, throwing an arm up over his eyes. “You really can’t wait a few more hours?” he asks.</p>
<p>Louis swings a leg over Harry’s hips, settles there. Naked skin against naked skin feels so good, so right, and now it’s not just Harry’s cock that’s hard. “Feels like <i>you’re</i> the one can’t wait a few more hours.” He flicks the lube open, drizzles some onto two fingers and reaches behind himself.</p>
<p>The corners of Harry’s mouth tug up slowly, reluctantly. Pleased, Louis uses his free hand to reach out and flick Harry’s nipple. “Hey, pay attention, you dickhead,” he says, waiting for Harry’s arm to fall away from his face and his eyes to blink open before he presses the first finger into his hole.</p>
<p>The bob of Harry’s throat as he swallows is really pleasing to watch. Louis breathes through his mouth, lips parting, watching Harry watch him. He does it faster than Harry would, barely even has the first finger in before he’s adding a second.</p>
<p>Immediately, Harry’s mouth deepens into a frown. “You’re going too fast.”</p>
<p>“You just go too slow,” Louis retorts, stretching himself out quickly. All he wants is Harry’s cock inside of him - he’s been making do with his own fingers for the past four days, and he’s done with that. So fucking done with it.</p>
<p>“I know how to finger you, Louis,” Harry says, line between his eyebrows not going away. Louis huffs out a sigh, putting his free hand on Harry’s shoulder to balance himself and leans down to distract him with a kiss.</p>
<p>It’s their first real kiss since Harry got home. That one he smudged against Louis’ mouth when he climbed into bed doesn’t count - Louis had still been ninety percent asleep. And it’s a good fucking kiss, wet and deep and familiar, has Louis’ toes curling against the sheets.</p>
<p>A deep, primal thrill goes through Louis’ entire body as Harry’s hand comes down to cup the underside of Louis’ belly, fingers spreading out. He sleeps that way sometimes, Harry does, like he’s already holding their baby even though it’s still in Louis’ belly.</p>
<p>“Haven’t told baby you’re sorry for being gone for so long yet,” Louis whispers into Harry’s mouth, tucking a third finger in beside the first two before Harry can notice.</p>
<p>“I did,” Harry insists, his other hand reaching up to tug at one of Louis’ nipples. Louis’ mouth drops open, whimpering a little before he can stop himself. “Gave my apologies to the baby when I got home. She wouldn’t stop kicking, ‘m surprised it didn’t wake you up.”</p>
<p>Well fuck. Louis is almost ready to come now, cock heavy and hard on Harry’s stomach, and the worst of it is that the smirk on Harry’s face says he knows it. He knows exactly what it does to Louis, him talking to the baby, especially when he talks to the baby when Louis isn’t even aware of it. He’s already baby’s daddy but when he acts like it -</p>
<p><i>Fuck</i>.</p>
<p>“You fucker,” Louis says, pulling his fingers out and scrambling for the lube again, dumping a generous amount into his palm so he can wet Harry’s cock.</p>
<p>“Or maybe you were talking about yourself,” Harry continues, fingers gently stroking the taut skin of Louis’ belly. Hisses as Louis slaps the lube onto his cock but continues regardless, “’m sorry I was gone so long, baby, thought about you all the time. Missed you so much.”</p>
<p>“Be quiet,” Louis says, shifting back up onto his knees and lining them up. “I’m concentrating now.”</p>
<p>Harry pushes himself up onto his elbows before grabbing at Louis’ hips, pulling them both backwards so he can lean up against the headboard. “Wanted to come home the second I got there,” Harry continues, ignoring Louis’ commands the way he always does, “Had to settle for picturing you when I wanked at night.”</p>
<p>Louis puts a hand up, bracing himself against the headboard as he starts sinking down, trying to breathe through the stretch. “What did you think about.”</p>
<p>It’s a very important question. There’s a lot of things Harry could have been thinking about, a lot of things he admits to thinking about on a regular basis, but Louis is so fucking turned on and he wants Harry to pull the best possible answer out of a hat.</p>
<p>“What do you think I thought about?” Harry gasps out, one hand on Louis’ belly and the other on his hip, holding him steady as he sinks down and down and down. “I thought about you curled up on our bed all by yourself, missing me with my baby in your belly, three fingers tucked up in your arse. What else could I have thought about?”</p>
<p>Leave it to Harry to always bust out the right answers when they matter the most. Louis can’t respond, too busy filling himself with every inch of cock he can get, curling his fingers tight around the wrist Harry’s got on his hip.</p>
<p>“That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well,” Harry murmurs, fingers drifting across the curve of Louis’ belly, caressing it. “Get what you need, love you so much.”</p>
<p>“Love you,” Louis gasps back, sinking down that final two inches, all of Harry’s cock held securely inside of him.</p>
<p>Harry’s hips jerks a little, helpless. His expression is a little pained as he says, “Can’t believe you let me knock you up.” It’s the good kind of pained, though, the kind that’s entirely too honest, the kind that can’t help but bubble out when they’re like this, joined so intimately.</p>
<p>As beautiful as it is, Louis is the one who’s pregnant. Louis is the one who gets to be emotional and teary-eyed and cranky when he can’t find the peanut butter in the cabinet. Louis is the one who gets to have emotional revelations during sex. He tells Harry as much, leaning forward and looping his arms around Harry’s neck as he starts to move, rising up and falling back down in the same breath, fucking himself on Harry’s cock.</p>
<p>Breathless, Harry answers, “Baby, if you think I’m going to stop marveling at how perfect you are you’re going to need to stop being so bloody perfect in the first place.”</p>
<p>Fucking emotional bastard. There’s no denying how happy it makes Louis, so instead he presses their mouths together, holding the kiss as he bounces on Harry’s cock, giving himself exactly what he’s been missing for the past four days. And Louis has missed it, missed being full of Harry’s cock like this, missed having Harry inside of him, having Harry beside him at night, the way Harry presses slow, gentle kisses to the back of Louis’ neck to wake him up in the morning.</p>
<p>“Don’t go away again,” Louis breathes, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. Bounces on Harry’s cock faster, hurtling towards the finish line, uncaring of whether it feels good for Harry. Of course it feels good for Harry. “Please.”</p>
<p>Never wants Harry to leave them again. Never.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry agrees, taking the hand that was on Louis’ hip and curling it around Louis’ cock, stroking him exactly the way Louis likes it when he’s this close, fast and tight, hand so big, perfect. “Won’t leave you alone ever again, baby, ‘m so sorry, wanna be with you forever.”<br/>Whether he’s saying it for real or he’s just caught up in the heat of the moment isn’t clear, but it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s what Louis needs to hear, Harry’s cock slamming against his prostate with every stroke, big and thick inside of him, filling him up so good, so right. Louis comes, gasping into Harry’s mouth, spilling all over Harry’s fist, his abs, Louis’ own belly. Shakes with the force of it, unable to keep himself moving anymore, slumped in Harry’s arms, surrounded by him, safe.</p>
<p>Turns out that doesn’t matter either. Harry comes just as quick, two beats after Louis, pulsing so fucking nice inside Louis’ arse, filling him up even more.</p>
<p>Louis’ legs feel like jelly, too boneless to be able to lift himself off. He stays where he is, caught in the haze of their cocoon of sex while Harry kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Louis manages to say eventually, letting Harry take all of his weight, baby and all. “If I wasn’t already pregnant that definitely would’ve done it.”</p>
<p>Inside him, Harry’s cock throbs weakly. His hand had slipped off Louis’ belly during one of their orgasms, and he puts it back now, even gentler than before. “Mm,” he murmurs, bone deep satisfaction rolling off him in waves, nosing down the line of Louis’ neck. “You know I’m gonna keep you barefoot and pregnant all the time if you keep going on like that, right?”</p>
<p>“Harry,” Louis says seriously, knotting his fingers in Harry’s hair and tugging his head up so their gazes meet, “If you even <i>try</i> to knock me up again within the first year of this one being outta me, I’m gonna divorce you.”</p>
<p>Another weak throb. Harry’s cock really has no idea what’s good for it. “You say that now,” Harry says, wrapping his arms around Louis’ back and lowering him gently onto the bed so he’s the one on top, cock still inside Louis’ arse, half hard and not going down, “but I think you like being my baby all full of my baby.”</p>
<p>Gives a gentle thrust with his hips, hitting Louis’ prostate with the head of his cock. Louis bites back a whimper, but he can’t stop his thighs from going wide, letting Harry in even deeper. This is an argument Louis can’t win, not with the way Harry knows him, so he changes the subject instead. “H,” he says, quiet and soft, fingers still tangled in Harry’s hair, “baby wants ice cream.”</p>
<p>Harry groans. If Louis wasn’t pregnant he would definitely let all his weight fall, collapse on Louis’ body, but he is so Harry just holds himself up with his elbows. “Seriously? Right now?”</p>
<p>“Chocolate,” Louis says, nodding. It’s not even a lie, is the thing. He wants chocolate ice cream exactly as bad as he wants Harry’s cock again, and Louis is six months pregnant and determined to have it both ways. “Be a good daddy and get it for us and I’ll let you eat it off me.”</p>
<p>“Sometimes,” Harry mutters, but Louis doesn’t miss the way the throbbing inside of him has intensified, even as Harry pulls out carefully. “Sometimes I think you do this to punish me.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t bother putting on any clothes as he stalks towards the door, naked, cock swinging heavily between his legs. Louis lies back and appreciates the view, calls, “Love you too!” after him, only to get a middle finger in response.</p>
<p>Yeah, Louis is thinking he’ll give it eight months before he lets Harry start trying again. Can’t let their babies be too far apart in age, after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Peter Pan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The two drabbles in this chapter are related to each other and may become a full story at some point.</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Violence<br/>Pirates</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This seems like a very bad idea,” Liam hisses, crouching beside Louis in the bushes.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t even look at him, squinting in the direction of Hook’s ship. If it can even be called a ship. It’s really more like a boat. Granted, a boat with several crew hands milling around, but a boat nonetheless. “Shut it, Payno.”</p>
<p>Liam’s wand whacks him in the side. “You’re going to get caught,” he hisses, whacking Louis again. “And you’re going to get <i>me</i> caught.”</p>
<p>Suddenly, all of the crew members disappear from view. Louis takes that as his cue and bolts towards the boat, ignoring Liam shrieking quietly from behind him, “Louis! You’re going to get killed!”</p>
<p>Please. Louis isn’t going to get himself killed. He’s going to beat Captain Hook for once and all and free Neverland from his tyranny. </p>
<p>The soft pitterpatter of Liam’s footsteps tells him he’s following, reluctant to let Louis go off half-cocked all by himself. Louis splashes his way through the shallow water up to the boat, hauling himself up the side and tumbling onto the deck, popping back up onto his feet with his sword drawn.</p>
<p>Nothing moves. No one appears.</p>
<p>Surprised, Louis’ sword lowers. Liam pops up beside him, wand at the ready, and frowns. “Where is everyone?”</p>
<p>He spoke too soon. Out of nowhere, they’re rushed by a dozen of Hook’s comrades, and while they put up a valiant fight they’re soon subdued. Separated and subdued.</p>
<p>Of course, Louis gets thrown into Hook’s private cabin and tied to a chair, spitting curses the entire way. Then, just as suddenly as the enemy had appeared they disappear, leaving Louis alone in the room.</p>
<p>Leaving Louis alone in the room to wait. And if there’s one thing Louis hates, it’s waiting. And when Liam is right about something. Louis really hates that.</p>
<p>Anyway. He drags the chair over to the table, breathing heavily and sweating nearly the entire way, and strains his fingers, making a futile grab for a knife that’s been left there so conveniently.</p>
<p>It doesn’t work. Louis keeps reaching for it for a long time, fingers nearly touching it, and every time he fails. He’s so engrossed in his efforts that he doesn’t notice Hook’s entered the room until he’s standing a mere five feet away, watching Louis struggle.</p>
<p>“Did you really think that was going to work?” Hook asks, practically drawling the words out, amused.</p>
<p>The chair thumps back onto the ground. “Loosen my bindings and I’ll show you exactly how well it’ll work,” Louis says.</p>
<p>Hook laughs. “Less than two minutes and you’re already off with the threats.” He takes a seat on a chair of his own, snagging a grape and popping it into his mouth. “Would you like a drink, Louis?”</p>
<p>Nettled, Louis snaps, “Don’t call me that,” immediately following it up with, “Where’s Li - Tink? If you’ve done anything - ”</p>
<p>“What shall I call you, then?” Hook asks, ignoring his second question. “Peter? We both know that’s not your real name, <i>Louis</i>.”</p>
<p>“Tink,” Louis repeats firmly. “What have you done with him?”</p>
<p>Hook reaches up to pluck his hat off of his head, setting it down on the table between them. “Your friend Liam, you mean?” he asks. “He’s safe. You needn’t worry about him.”</p>
<p>Louis narrows his eyes and wiggles on his chair. “Unhand me, then, pirate,” he hisses.</p>
<p>“But we’ve just begun dining,” Hook murmurs, soft and sweet, and all of a sudden everything makes sense. Why there’s so many candles lit in the room, why the boat seemed suspiciously quiet while Louis was spying on it, why the table is already adjourned with cutlery and an abundance of food.</p>
<p>This was a <i>trap</i>.</p>
<p>“You vile bastard,” Louis spits, shoving himself away from the table, nearly toppling over. “Captain Hook, every bit as much of a scourge as they say you are.”</p>
<p>Hook leans forward but doesn’t get out of his chair. “You know my name,” he says patiently. “My real name. Louis.”</p>
<p>“What I know is that you’re going to be in serious danger if you don’t let me go immediately,” Louis says. His fingers are trembling against the arm of the chair, and it’s not out of fear.</p>
<p>Hook leans back just as abruptly as he’d leaned forwards. “Do you know what today is?” he asks, continuing without waiting for an answer. “This is the one year anniversary of the first time I kissed you.”</p>
<p>His eyes rake over Louis’ body hotly, examining every inch of him. Louis wills back a flush. “The one year anniversary of the first time you stuck your tongue in my mouth, you mean?” he asks sharply, trying desperately to get his hands free one more time.</p>
<p>Again, it doesn’t work.</p>
<p>“The one year anniversary of the first time you climbed into my lap and let me kiss you breathless, you mean?” Harry corrects gently.</p>
<p>Shit. Hook. <i>Hook</i> corrects gently.</p>
<p>“You need to let me go,” Louis says, more desperate this time. Pleading.</p>
<p>Harry sighs, but he gets up, knife in hand, and crosses the room, kneeling beside Louis’ chair. “And you need to grow up, <i>Peter</i>,” he says pointedly, slicing through the ropes easily, “and stop pretending that the entire world exists in black and white.”</p>
<p>There’s so much hidden behind that statement, an entire world of things he’s not saying, and for a second Louis worries that he’s going to say them with his tongue instead, slipping inside Louis’ mouth, making his belly all fluttery and weak, slick and - </p>
<p>But he doesn’t. He stands instead and strides out the door before Louis can even blink, leaving him alone and free.</p>
<p>It takes a few minutes for Louis to be able to gather himself enough to leave the room and find Liam, escape the eerily quiet ship.</p>
<p>He’s rattled the entire way home. <i>Rattled</i>.</p>
<hr/>
<p>There’s blood trickling down Louis’ temple, onto his cheek. His head feels woozy, as though it’s been stuffed with cotton. His hands are cuffed behind him, legs tied together at the ankles, and he can’t move. There’s no escape.</p>
<p>There’s no escape.</p>
<p>It’s not the first time Louis has been in a situation like this. Caught and defenseless with seemingly no way out, but it is the first time he hasn’t thought <i>to die would be an awfully big adventure</i>. This is the first time he’s ever felt <i>scared</i>.</p>
<p>Terrified.</p>
<p>For years, he’s thought about death fleetingly, in split second intervals. And all the times he’s thought about it, he always assumed that it would come at the hands of Captain Hook.</p>
<p>He hasn’t thought about it in months. Years, maybe. And now, here in this dingy little room with <i>Smee</i> on the other side of the door, it’s all Louis can think about. It’s the only thing Louis can think about.</p>
<p>There’s no escape, and that’s the most terrifying thought Louis has had in his entire life.</p>
<p>Maybe that’s a part of growing up.</p>
<p>The door slamming open comes before Louis is ready for it. Not that Louis will ever really be ready for it. Smee strides in, all of his pot-bellied glory hanging out for the entire world to see, goons hanging out behind him.</p>
<p>“Peter,” Smee booms, belly jiggling, “Have you come to terms with your predicament yet?”</p>
<p>Slowly, Louis blinks. Blood drips unnervingly close to his eye, threatening to enter. His hands flex behind his back, trying and failing to find a way out. “Go fuck yourself.”</p>
<p>Smee laughs. “My, my, someone has grown up,” he observes. “Such foul language from a pretty little lad like yourself.” He grasps Louis’ chin between his fingers, holding it still even as Louis tries to jerk away.</p>
<p>Louis’ eyes burn, but it’s not with tears. Anger, fury. “Get your hands off me,” he spits, still struggling to get away.</p>
<p>Smee obliges, making it obvious he’s only doing so because he’s <i>choosing</i> to do so. “Do you know why you’re here, little Pan?” he asks, stroking his own chin now.</p>
<p>“Because you’re a vile, despicable human being who assaults people in their sleep,” Louis spits, gaining a second wind and struggling to get himself free of his bonds again.</p>
<p>He has even less success this time.</p>
<p>“No,” Smee says, eyes suddenly turning cold in a way Louis has never seen before. Smee has always been an annoyance but usually only that - he’s always cared more about loot and treasure than defeating Peter Pan and his Lost Boys. “He cares about you, you know. We could have beaten you hundreds of times over but he’s always too busy chasing after you to realize that.”</p>
<p>Louis goes still before he even realizes he’s doing it. He clenches his jaw and looks away, refuses to give in to the bait. Harry - <i>Hook</i> doesn’t care about him. Not like that, at least, not to the extent where he can’t see anything else like Smee is claiming.</p>
<p>“Stop pretending that you didn’t know!” Smee shouts suddenly, spittle flying from his mouth and hitting Louis’ cheek. “You distract him with your antics, and your <i>ploys</i>, and I’ve had <i>enough</i>! It’s time to be rid of you for once and for all!”</p>
<p>He lunges for Louis, sharp glint of a knife playing off the light, and it’s only out of that instinctive self-preservation that Louis reacts in time to twist to the side, sending the chair he’s sitting in toppling over. Smee falls over, landing on his face against the floor, giving Louis a chance to shove himself as far away as possible.</p>
<p>As far as possible isn’t far enough. Louis is still tied to the chair, immobile, all of his weight on one arm now, and there’s nothing he can do, nowhere he can go.</p>
<p>Death doesn’t seem like a big adventure anymore.</p>
<p>Smee rises ungracefully to his feet, stalking over to where Louis lies, knife still glimmering in his hand. Louis’ breath is coming fast and short, heat beating triple time in his chest. He doesn’t want to die. <i>He doesn’t want to die</i>.</p>
<p>“There’s nowhere for you to go,” Smee snarls, eyes still filled with that cold, unfeeling stare. “You’re going to <i>die</i>, Pan, and there’s nothing left to do but accept that.”</p>
<p>Louis closes his eyes. If he’s to die then his last image isn’t going to be Smee’s too-small shirt, his belly hanging over his trousers. No, Louis is going to die thinking about Tink and his Lost Boys, Liam and Niall and Zayn, about the green of Harry’s eyes and the way he kisses, devout and devouring, all consuming.</p>
<p>Louis had his chance, and he missed it. Now he’ll go to his grave regretting not having taken it.</p>
<p>A loud burst of sound startles Louis’ eyes open. Smee looks towards the door in shock, but it’s already too late. Wood splinters, breaks apart, and then there’s Harry standing in the space he’s created, dressed in full Captain Hook get-up, sword at the ready.</p>
<p>“Mr. Smee,” he says. “I think you’ve taken something that rightfully belongs to me.”</p>
<p>Louis can only watch with wide eyes, craning his neck, as Harry and Smee clash swords, blocking and parrying and thrusting, dancing around the small room as they fight for the upper hand, drawing small measures of blood from each other.</p>
<p>It was never a fair fight. In a matter of minutes, Harry wins, driving his sword through Smee’s chest, sending him toppling over to the ground, dead before he hits the floor.</p>
<p>It’s a minute before Harry turns around, shoulders heaving in his shirt, back tense and unwelcoming. Louis licks his dry lips and waits, blood starting to dry on his temple.</p>
<p>Harry’s shoulders aren’t any less tense as he turns around, expression almost frighteningly blank. He doesn’t say anything as he crosses the room, kneels beside Louis and starts untying him. He’s careful not to touch Louis more than absolutely necessary.</p>
<p>Once he’s free, Louis sits up carefully. Harry still hasn’t said anything, shoulders still holding that tightness in them. It’s been a long, trying day and there’s a dead body only a few feet away from them, but Louis doesn’t care. He reaches out and touches Harry’s cheek gently, finally drawing his attention. “I’m okay,” he says, promises. “I’m okay.”</p>
<p>Harry draws in a deep, ragged breath. “You need to go,” he says finally, meeting Louis’ eyes. “I can’t keep doing this with you, Louis, not when it’s going to put you in danger. Our lives are incompatible.” </p>
<p>Louis blinks. “Five minutes ago you were announcing to the entire world that I rightfully belong to you,” he says a little numbly, refusing to let go of Harry’s face.</p>
<p>“Five minutes ago I thought you were about to die,” Harry says, shrugging. “I can’t be held accountable for the things I say when I think you’re about to die.”</p>
<p>That’s <i>bullshit</i>. “No,” Louis says, pushing himself up onto his knees so they’re mostly eye level, pinching Harry’s shoulder. “You don’t get to swoop in and save me from your own right hand and then tell me to get lost. You don’t get to do that.”</p>
<p>“So tell me what I’m supposed to do, then!” Harry shouts, pulling back and flinging his hat off his head so he can rake his hand through his hair. “I’m a <i>pirate</i>, Louis, and you’re Peter Pan. There’s no reconciling those two things.”</p>
<p>Louis blinks again, slower this time. Harry’s <i>not a villain</i>. Louis has thought of him that way in the past, but the truth is that Harry is not a villain. And for all of his posturing and imagined self-importance, Louis isn’t the good guy, either. Neither of them are exactly what they pretend to be, and maybe it’s time they admit that.</p>
<p>“The first time you kissed me I panicked and thought I was going to pass out from how much I liked it,” Louis says abruptly, and just like that he has Harry’s full attention again, has Harry’s full <i>intent</i> again.</p>
<p>“You’re lying to yourself again,” Harry says, crowding Louis against a wall and holding him there with his body. “The first time we kissed <i>you</i> kissed <i>me</i>.”</p>
<p>That’s something Louis is never going to admit, no matter how this turns out.</p>
<p>Louis isn’t scared of him anymore, hasn’t been for a long time. Scared of his feelings for Harry, maybe, but not of him. He reaches up and tangles his fingers in Harry’s hair, pulls him down a little more. “If I wanted to be rid of you, I could have been ages ago.”</p>
<p>Against him, Harry’s gone still. “What are you saying, Louis?”</p>
<p>This is the turning point. There’s no coming back from here, and maybe a day ago, a week ago, a month ago Louis wouldn’t have been ready for it, but now? Now Louis is ready to <i>live</i>.</p>
<p>“I’m saying,” Louis starts, finishing the sentence by pushing himself up onto his tip-toes and kissing Harry. He puts his entire heart and soul into it, dragging their mouths together. It takes barely even a second for Harry to start kissing back, deep and wet and all-consuming. It’s toe-curlingly good, achingly good, and Louis can’t wait to start the rest of his life.</p>
<p>“Second star to the right,” Louis murmurs into Harry’s mouth, feeling the curve of Harry’s answering smile.</p>
<p>“And straight on ‘til morning,” Harry finishes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Pornstars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The two drabbles in this chapter are related to each other.</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Porn-typical Sex</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shh,” Harry’s murmuring, big hands gripping the underside of Louis’ knees, holding his thighs up in the air, parted, hips rocking easily, pace infuriating and relentless, hitting Louis’ prostate with every. Damn. Thrust.</p>
<p>Louis is vaguely aware of the desperate, half choked noises he’s making, fingers scrabbling uselessly at the sheets, unsure of whether he wants to pull away from the overwhelming pleasure or just lie there and bask in it, let this kid work him over forever. It’s ridiculous, is what it is - Louis is a professional, goddammit, this is how he earns his living. He’s been on his back for more cocks than he cares to count, and he’s fucking good at what he does.</p>
<p>No pun intended.</p>
<p>And this guy, this kid, he’s fucking twenty-one years old, first time doing porn at all, much less gay porn, never fucked on camera before. Louis should be the one overwhelming him, the one holding all the power, all the cards, making him beg for a chance to fuck Louis’ arse. Better men than Harry Styles have begged for that exact thing before.</p>
<p>“Yeah, baby, you’re alright,” Harry says, working his cock in and out of Louis’ hole as though he’s done this a thousand times before, like he fucks Louis into a whimpering mess every single day, ignoring the cameras altogether but somehow working the perfect angle for them to pick up a great shot.</p>
<p>Louis gasps for a solid breath, stomach muscles clenching as Harry bends him impossibly further, thrusting faster and harder but still managing to hit Louis’ prostate on every go. He can’t think, head swimming, vision a little bit hazy. Knows he should be doing his part, pulling his weight, but the only words he seems to be capable of forming are <i>fuck</i> and <i>yes</i> and <i>please</i> and <i>Harry</i>.</p>
<p>It’s embarrassing. Or it would be embarrassing if Louis could gather enough brain cells to be embarrassed by it, but as it stands his arse is getting pounded by a big cock and his own cock is leaking against his belly, balls full and tight. He’s going to come. He’s going to come and he’s going to come before the scene fucking calls for it, and he’s pretty sure he’s not going to be able to stop it.</p>
<p>He can hear his noises getting a little more distressed. Things like this don’t happen to him - he’s a fucking <i>pro</i>.</p>
<p>“C’mon, baby, gonna come for me, yeah?” Harry’s saying, voice deep and silky, winding its way through Louis’ spine, leaving electric shivers everywhere it touches. “Gonna be a gorgeous boy and let me make you come, aren’t you.”</p>
<p>It’s not a question, very clearly not a question. For some reason Louis gasps back, “Yes, yeah, gonna come,” anyway, and watches the triumphant little smirk tugging at the corner of Harry’s mouth come closer, closer, until he can’t see it anymore because that same mouth is suddenly busy sucking a lovebite into Louis’ throat.</p>
<p>Suddenly - or maybe not so suddenly - Louis can’t hold back his orgasm anymore. Can’t even hear what type of noises he’s making as he comes, only knows that he’s making them loud and high-pitched, eyes either closed or vision blackened by how fucking good he feels. Harry’s hand comes up to strip his cock as Louis jerks and shudders underneath him, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through his entire body.</p>
<p>It’s impossible to tell how much time passes before he’s able to blink his sex-heavy eyes open again. His toes have gone numb, tingling, one leg still more or less wrapped around Harry’s back and the other lying uselessly against the mattress. Almost absently, he realizes that he’s got his fingers curled around Harry’s wrist, the hand Harry’s still got wrapped around his cock, stroking him gently, lightly, not even trying to stop him, just holding on. His head feels even fuzzier than before, so it takes him a minute to realize that Harry’s thrusts have slowed down but not stopped, pace still constant.</p>
<p>He hasn’t heard the director give any directions in a while.</p>
<p>“Mm, baby, that was nice,” Harry sighs appreciatively, dragging a come-coated thumb over Louis’ mouth, pulling at his bottom lip so it can slip inside. Instinctively, Louis sucks at it. “Did so good, sweetheart, but I’m not done with you yet.”</p>
<p>Before Louis has a chance to think about what that means, Harry’s pulling out. Louis hisses, suddenly empty and a little sore, limbs heavy and tired. That’s why he doesn’t stop Harry from rolling him over, arranging him onto his hands and knees and pushing back inside.</p>
<p>Louis’ arms are trembling. “I can’t - ” he starts, moving a little, knees slipping against the sheets. He’s full again, arse plugged with thick cock, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to be. Knows there’s a word he could say to put an end to it, call for a break, and even remembers what the word is - stop - but he doesn’t say it.</p>
<p>“You can,” Harry tells him. There’s the press of something warm against the nape of Louis’ neck, Harry’s mouth. A kiss, then, gentle and soft, and everything that’s seemed strange about this entire shoot comes rushing back, flooding Louis’ head. “Gonna take whatever I want to give you, baby, aren’t you? Gonna trust me to make you feel good, yeah?”</p>
<p>Louis’ exhale comes out more like a sigh. “Okay,” he agrees, and another kiss follows that first one, in the same spot and just as tender before Harry’s moving again. His thrusts are deeper from this angle, just as sure as before, and it’s like he knows exactly where Louis’ prostate is because he’s still fucking hitting it, unerringly accurate.</p>
<p>Then the talking starts up again, that same stream of soft, sensual filth, the kind that two pornstars don’t usually engage in. The kind that a couple would have between them, the kind two people who know each other and love each other have, intimate and familiar, and Louis is half-conscious of responding to it all.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know how long it goes on for, the deep, steady thrusts or the soft murmured words, floating on a cloud of pleasure, his only responsibility being to hold himself up and let Harry fuck him.</p>
<p>Warm fingers wrap themselves around Louis’ cock for the second time. They’re not his own. Everything feels bright and full and good, and before Louis knows it he’s coming again, wetting the sheets underneath him.</p>
<p>Again, Harry’s thrusts slow but don’t stop. Louis thinks it’s over, that this must be the part where Harry pulls out and comes all over his back, his arse, that in a few minutes he’ll be back in his dressing room and able to think about this with a clear head.</p>
<p>Harry pulls out. Louis holds his position, barely even aware of the strain in his arms, waits for Harry to finish.</p>
<p>Except Harry’s not finishing. He’s moving Louis again, guiding him up off his knees and into Harry’s lap instead, filling him back up before Louis has the chance to catch his breath, much less think about whether he can take any more.</p>
<p>“There you go, sweetheart,” Harry murmurs, pressing one hand flat against Louis’ back and holding him there, not encouraging him to move just yet. Cups Louis’ chin with his hand and makes sure Louis is paying attention before he continues, “This one is gonna be for me, baby, you understand? The first two were for the camera but this one is all mine.”</p>
<p>“What?” Louis manages, full to bursting and aching with it, face to face with Harry and reading the intent he’s got written all over his face. He doesn’t understand what’s going on, what’s happening.</p>
<p>The director still hasn’t said anything.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it,” Harry says, flashing him a quick, easy grin. “You’ll get there eventually.”</p>
<p>For a split second, Louis thinks that must mean he’ll get to his orgasm eventually. It’s not his usual thing, delayed gratification, but then neither is multiple orgasms so. At this point he doesn’t even have the ability to care.</p>
<p>Then Harry rocks his hips pointedly, juggling Louis’ weight in his lap, and the tiny bit of professionalism Louis has left has him rising with the movement, sliding up, almost all the way off Harry’s cock before letting himself drop back down, repeating the movements quicker, faster, hurtling them towards the finish line.</p>
<p>Harry’s shaking his head, hands on Louis’ hips big and strong. “Slow,” he says, guiding Louis into the rhythm he apparently wants. “Go slow for me, baby, make me feel good.”</p>
<p>Louis obeys, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to figure out what Harry wants, what this entire thing is all about. It would be a lot better if his head wasn’t still so fuzzy, if the ache in his entire body wasn’t distracting him, if the pleasure wasn’t so good.</p>
<p>“You’ll get there eventually,” Harry repeats, thumb brushing Louis’ cheekbone, mouth trailing along his jaw. It sounds like a promise, one he intends to keep, but Louis can’t figure out what it means, bouncing on Harry’s lap slow and gentle, every muscle in his body focused on figuring out whether he can come again.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know how long they’ve been filming for. It’s not the longest shoot he’s ever done, not at all, but it’s been one continuous take and that’s unheard of. There’s so much about this that doesn’t make sense, and Louis is going to figure it out, he is, except it’s like Harry knows that he’s distracted because all of sudden he’s shoving his hips up to meet Louis’ descent, knocking the breath out of him again.</p>
<p>“Pay attention, sweetheart,” Harry says. There’s a hint of that firmness in his voice, the kind that demands to be respected, obeyed, and before Louis realizes he’s doing it he’s watching Harry watch him.</p>
<p>He’s still meeting Louis’ movements, thrusting hard and good, and that floaty pleasure is starting to take over Louis’ brain again, making all the parts of him that ache feel good instead. “Good,” Harry murmurs, thumb digging into the tip of Louis’ cock, a shock of pleasure-pain zinging through his spine.</p>
<p>Suddenly, abruptly, they’re kissing, kissing for the first time, wet and slick, tongues moving together, hot and electric, and Louis thinks <i>oh</i>.</p>
<p><i>Oh</i>.</p>
<p>He knows this kiss. He remembers this kiss, the heat and intensity of it. Remembers being blindfolded and kissed like this for what felt like forever and not long enough, hands tied behind his back and kissed until his tongue went numb and his brain had melted, until the lights came back on and suddenly he wasn’t being kissed anymore. Remembers being young and stupid and accepting a dare, twenty years old and too drunk to think it was a bad idea, letting some dumb frat boys blindfold him, tie him up and hang a sign around his neck declaring <i>FREE KISSES</i>. <br/>Remembers drunkenly trash talking every time he heard someone come into the room until someone finally did it, claimed those free kisses, and then it was - </p>
<p>It was <i>exactly</i> like this.</p>
<p>It was exactly like this, deep and all consuming, the best kiss Louis has ever had, and he’s having it again, stuffed with a cock he might be envious of if it wasn’t buried inside of him, big hands touching him like they’re never going to let him go, and Louis is coming.</p>
<p>Again.</p>
<p>He’s even more shocked by it this time, making almost hiccupy noises into Harry’s mouth, not even moving anymore, just letting Harry bounce him along. Can’t manage to string a coherent thought together, that pleasure-pain spark going through his entire body, full and almost hurting with it.</p>
<p>Harry’s talking again, mumbling words in between kisses, and they might even make sense but Louis can’t concentrate on them, wrists draped over Harry’s shoulders and letting him move him however he wants. And then Harry’s coming, finally coming, not outside but in, breaking one of the most important porn rules, and for the first time Louis really starts understanding that this isn’t about the porn at all.</p>
<p>Everything that didn’t make sense before is starting to now; the intimacy, the insistence on barebacking, the determination he’s felt radiating off of Harry the entire time. </p>
<p>Louis drifts off for a while. It feels like the next time he blinks he’s back in his dressing room, all cleaned up and wrapped in his robe, lying on the sofa. He isn’t certain how he got here but he’s got a pretty good guess from the way Harry’s sitting in the chair across from him, clad in a robe of his own and watching Louis sleep.</p>
<p>For a minute, all they do is stare at each other.</p>
<p>“I want to date you,” Harry says.</p>
<p>All of it, that very first kiss, the drunk one, every single orgasm, every position of the sex comes rushing back to Louis. There’s still so much of it that doesn’t make sense - how Harry found him after all of this time, why he decided to arrange to be in one of Louis’ films instead of just asking him, how he arranged that, what kind of strings he pulled to get here, how five minutes of kissing made him determined to track Louis down, how he’d even lost track of him in the first place. None of it makes sense and all of it needs answers, but it can all probably wait. This is the guy who kisses like fireworks and heat, after all, the only person who’s ever kissed Louis like that in his entire life.</p>
<p>“No kidding,” Louis says.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Before the shoot begins, Harry sits in the dressing room, dressed only in a thin bathrobe, waiting for his call. His breathing is even, calm, and he doesn’t feel nervous at all. He’s never had sex on camera before, and that’s probably something that should be making him antsy, but it’s not.</p>
<p>This has been a long time coming, and the only thing Harry feels is a deep, undeniable thrill at the thought that he’s finally going to get what he wants.</p>
<p>Okay, and also arousal, so it’s not the <i>only</i> thing he feels.</p>
<p>Someone comes to get him before long, and then Harry is standing face to face with Louis Tomlinson for the first time in three years.</p>
<p>They exchange generic pleasantries, and it’s clear Louis dismisses him as only another newbie, someone he has to break in. Harry isn’t rankled - of course Louis wouldn’t recognize him. He was wearing a blindfold when they met, and they hadn’t said more than two words to each other. <br/>It would be more surprising if Louis had recognized him.</p>
<p>Harry intends to change that before this day is through.</p>
<p>The general plot is more normal than a lot of other porn films. There’s no pizza delivery boys, no busted plumbing, no implausible scenarios and terrible acting. No, it’s just the two of them and a bedroom set, a story that sets them up as long-term boyfriends. Long-term boyfriends who are having sex the way only two people who know each other can have sex.</p>
<p>Harry spent a considerable amount of energy making sure that was the case. They’re starting in the middle of the scene, and he honestly has no idea whether that’s the norm for a porn shoot or not, but the director insisted that it made for better takes. There’s not going to be any of the kissing, any of the prep there would be in a real life version of this concept, at least not right now. Louis is already opened up, lubed and ready, and the thought of someone else doing it for him creates a sour feeling in the pit of Harry’s stomach. It doesn’t matter how many times Louis has had someone else’s fingers in him, Harry will probably have that feeling about all of them.</p>
<p>The director calls action, and true to the word, they’re moving. They’re on the bed, and Harry’s on top of Louis, lining himself up and pushing in. The expression on Louis’ face barely flickers, and Harry’s hit with a surge of emotion. He’s spent hours watching every film Louis has ever made, all the way back to when he first started out, and he knows what it looks like when Louis is faking it.</p>
<p>Louis isn’t going to fake any of it. Not with Harry.</p>
<p>“You good?” Harry asks. He only gets a nod in return, but he sees the tiny twitch on Louis’ face, one that might mean <i>taken bigger than you before</i>.</p>
<p>He has. Harry’s seen those films. But bigger doesn’t always mean better, and Harry’s plenty big.</p>
<p>Back in the early days of Louis’ career, when he’d been even smaller and younger than he is now and a much worse actor, he was especially vocal when he was getting fucked fast and a little rough. What Harry is saying is that he knows all the things he needs to do in order to make Louis fall apart, and he’s going to do every single one of them.</p>
<p>He starts off steady and definitely not gentle, gripping Louis’ hips and hauling him up a little, angling him exactly right. His first thrust drives a short, sharp noise out of Louis’ mouth. Louis’ hands come flying up to grip at Harry’s arms, nails digging into his skin.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” he says, barbed and exquisite, like this is something he didn’t see coming.</p>
<p>Harry’s been coming for him for a while now, and now that he’s this close he’s only going to up his game.</p>
<p>“Mm,” Harry agrees, and then words start bubbling out of him. “Been waiting all day for this, baby, couldn’t stop thinking coming home and spreading you out like this, get you all full of me.”</p>
<p>Every word of it is true. Maybe not exactly true in the way it sounds, but Harry has been waiting for this all day, and he does want to go home and spread Louis out like this, fuck him full. Wants this exact plot to become his life. Is working towards that goal even as he thinks it.</p>
<p>“Didn’t - ah - have anything better to do?” Louis asks, still gripping Harry’s arms tight enough he’s going to leave bruises, and he’s losing it, getting swept away by how it feels. Harry knows it. It’s why he’s barely let himself think about how Louis feels around him, tight and wet on his cock, so fucking perfect.</p>
<p>Harry knows he can do better. Slips his hands down behind Louis’ legs, down until he hits knees and hauls his thighs up, holding him there as he changes his pace a little. “Shh,” he says, watching Louis’ face, every expression that filters over it.</p>
<p>The only response Louis makes is noise. Lots of noises, desperate and turned on, fucked out of him by Harry’s cock. His cock is hard and leaking against his belly, flush with blood, and Harry’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.</p>
<p>“Yeah, baby, you’re alright,” Harry says, hushing. He can feel the prickle of the cameras between his shoulderblades, but it’s easy enough to ignore. He’s got everything he’s ever wanted underneath him and he’s not going to let go without a fight.</p>
<p>Louis makes another noise, even more ragged this time, soft pink mouth gaping as Harry presses his thighs higher, and he says, “<i>Please</i>.” </p>
<p>Harry’s cock throbs. Louis isn’t done, mouthing, “Harry, yes, please,” more than he actually says the words out loud. It’s desperate and filthy and pure porn and Harry’s pretty sure Louis isn’t faking. Not anymore.</p>
<p>“C’mon, baby, gonna come for me, yeah?” Harry asks, angling his thrusts so they go a little deeper. “Gonna be a gorgeous boy and let me make you come, aren’t you.”</p>
<p>It’s not a question and Harry doesn’t mean it to be. He knows Louis is going to come, can see it in all the tells he’s had since the first time he went on camera, nineteen and practically a virgin.</p>
<p>Louis gasps back, “Yes, yeah, gonna come,” and Harry knows he’s smirking. Hides it in Louis’ throat, latching onto a mouthful of skin and sucking, determined to leave a mark.</p>
<p>Louis comes. Harry’s not humble enough to think it’s not directly related to his mouth against Louis’ neck. He brings up a hand to help Louis through it, curling his fingers around Louis’ cock and stroking him with a firm grip. Watches as Louis’ eyelids flutter closed, mouth wet as he licks at his bottom lip, boneless and satiated under Harry’s body.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t stop thrusting. Slows down a bit, enough to give Louis a second to catch his breath. “Mm, baby, that was nice,” Harry says, because he believes in giving credit where credit is due, and presses his thumb against the seam of Louis’ mouth. Can’t help his own sharp inhale as Louis sucks it in, continuing, slightly uneven, “Did so good, sweetheart, but I’m not done with you yet.”</p>
<p>Far from done. Harry’s had a plan for this for a solid year, and he’s not going to stray from it now. Not until Louis gives him what he wants, and what Harry wants starts with making Louis come again.</p>
<p>He pulls out, not wasting a second as he rolls Louis over. It’s easy enough, Louis is still lax and languid, doesn’t put up any protest. Then Harry pushes back inside, hissing as he does so. He probably could have come five seconds after Louis did, it felt that good, but he’s not going to. Not yet.</p>
<p>“I can’t,” Louis says. His arms are trembling, and the view is obscene - the slope of Louis’ back, the heavy hang of his head as he struggles with the sensitivity of having Harry inside him again.</p>
<p>If Harry believed him for even a second, he wouldn’t be doing this. He knows Louis can, though, fucking <i>knows it</i>.</p>
<p>“You can,” he tells Louis, pressing a kiss against the back of his neck. It takes some effort not to put his teeth into it, with the way Harry is feeling, but he manages. “Gonna take whatever I want to give you, baby, aren’t you? Gonna trust me to make you feel good, yeah?”</p>
<p>Louis makes a noise, one that’s more of a sob than anything. “Okay,” he agrees, so sweet and trusting, even when he probably shouldn’t be. Harry rewards him with another kiss, wishing that it was Louis’ mouth he was kissing instead. Not that the back of his neck isn’t nice, isn’t a place Harry plans to become intimately familiar with, but that kiss from three years ago has haunted him every day since.</p>
<p>Harry keeps thrusting. Curls one hand around Louis’ forearm, keeping him in place as he fucks him, tells him all about the various images he’s had in his head over the years, the things he’s thought about while watching Louis’ films, the things he wished he could be doing to him. Louis keeps making noise, a litany of noises so fucking hot Harry can barely stop himself from coming.</p>
<p>Throughout it all, Louis lets him. <i>Louis lets him</i>. The knowledge is so hot Harry has to put his hand back on Louis’ cock, jerk him off again, and it doesn’t take long before Louis is coming again.</p>
<p>That’s two. Harry’s cock throbs even harder.</p>
<p>Harry fucks Louis through it, and when he’s done, pulls out. It’s finally his turn, and this time he’s going to have Louis exactly the way he wants him. The cameras don’t matter anymore, have never mattered. This is for Harry now, for <i>them</i>.</p>
<p>He rearranges Louis again, for the last time, pulling him up into Harry’s lap. Doesn’t get any resistance as he does it, only that same soft, malleable ease he’s never seen on Louis before, not in any of his movies.</p>
<p>Fuck. Harry knew he was right about this. About all of this.</p>
<p>“There you go, sweetheart,” Harry says, barely believing that he gets to say the words. “This one is gonna be for me, baby, you understand? The first two were for the camera but this one is all mine.”</p>
<p>All fucking Harry’s. Every single inch of him, and every single second of his orgasm.</p>
<p>“What?” Louis asks, dazed, and Harry wants to kiss him. Really, really wants to kiss him.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it,” Harry says, smiling. “You’ll get there eventually.”</p>
<p>He starts moving again, rocking his hips and moving Louis a bit, and he doesn’t expect Louis to match him, not after two orgasms and an already thorough fucking, but Louis does, getting his knees underneath himself and lifting up, sliding back down. It looks like it takes a lot of effort, like Louis is struggling with it, and Harry can’t help how attractive he finds that.</p>
<p>Still. The last thing he wants is for Louis to hurt himself. “Slow,” he says, gripping Louis’ hips and slowing his pace. “Go slow for me, baby, make me feel good.”</p>
<p>It’s what he would say to Louis if the cameras weren’t rolling. It’s no longer for show. Louis obeys, slowing down until it’s barely more than a rock, and there’s this expression on his face, showing through the fatigue, that says he’s trying to figure this out.</p>
<p>“You’ll get there eventually,” Harry repeats, touching Louis’ cheek with his thumb, putting his mouth to Louis’ jaw. Sooner than Louis thinks, probably, but he’s still thinking about it, harder than he should be when Harry’s cock is still inside of him.</p>
<p>To fix it, Harry knocks his hips up sharper, drawing Louis’ attention back. “Pay attention, sweetheart,” he says, and Louis’ gaze drops back down to meet Harry’s.</p>
<p>He’s making noise again, Louis is, and Harry’s pretty sure that he no longer even knows he’s doing it, but he’s paying attention. “Good,” Harry says, putting his hand back on Louis’ cock and pressing against the tip of it, a little harder than absolutely necessary. Louis’ attention doesn’t waver, and Harry’s ready.</p>
<p>He’s so fucking ready.</p>
<p>Kissing Louis again for the first time in three years feels exactly the way it did back then. It’s hot and dirty and a little bit sweet too, and he can feel the exact second Louis remembers.</p>
<p>He keeps kissing Louis, right up until Louis comes again, weaker this time, making gaspy noises into Harry’s mouth, and right through that, telling him things that don’t make sense, not even to Harry’s own ears, still bouncing Louis in his lap, chasing his own orgasm.</p>
<p>Then Harry does. After three years, two months and eighteen days, Harry comes, buried deep inside of Louis with their mouths still pressed together, almost laughing from how good it feels. </p>
<p>It feels like everything. <i>Everything</i>.</p>
<p>Once Harry’s finished coming, giving himself a few seconds to come down from that high, he bundles Louis up and takes him back to the dressing rooms, not waiting for the director to call cut. It takes a bit for Louis to really regain consciousness, and that part of Harry, the part that likes to pretend it’s all alpha male, is so fucking pleased by it.</p>
<p>Louis opens his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. Harry has a speech prepared, one that makes him seem less stalker-y than he might actually be, but what comes out of his mouth is, “I want to date you.”</p>
<p>It’s not what he meant to say, but it gets the job done. Louis looks at him, keeps looking at him for so long Harry starts to wonder whether he’d fucked him a little bit too hard.</p>
<p>“No kidding,” Louis says, and yeah, alright, Harry can work with that.</p>
<p>Harry can definitely work with that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Prince/Servant</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This drabble may end up becoming a full fic at some point.</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Angst</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry finishes smoothing out the covers across Louis’ shoulders, avoiding making eye contact, and goes to pull back.</p>
<p>“You’re forgetting something,” Louis says, breaking the silence.</p>
<p>If Harry was of richer blood he might be able to say <i>fuck off</i>. But he’s not. He’s just Harry, personal servant of Prince Louis, and that’s all he’s ever going to be.</p>
<p>“Yes, my lord?” he asks, careful to keep the hostility out of his voice. If it was any other day, anyone but Louis, he might have succeeded.</p>
<p>Louis’ eyes narrow, just within Harry’s peripheral vision. Fuck. “It’s a cold night. I’m going to need hot stones for my feet.”</p>
<p>Of course he is. Because he’s incapable of just letting things go. It’s not even that cold in the room.</p>
<p>Harry still stalks over to the fire to prepare the stones, biting his tongue. He’s only a servant, he reminds himself. His place isn’t to keep Louis in line, no matter how much history they have. He’s not responsible for him.</p>
<p>Minutes tick by while the stones heat up. Louis’ eyes are fixed on Harry’s back the entire time, and the only thing Harry wants right now is to be dismissed.</p>
<p>Eventually, the stones are ready. Harry’s quiet as he lifts the bottom of the blankets to tuck them underneath, arranging them carefully before letting the covers fall back into place.</p>
<p>“Anything else, my lord?” he asks, because that’s what’s required of him. That’s what he needs to do if he wants to keep his livelihood.</p>
<p>Not that he thinks Louis would ever tell if he didn’t. But Harry has to get used to it at some point.</p>
<p>“My blankets have come loose,” Louis says, folding an arm behind his head. “I need you to fix them.”</p>
<p>Christ. He’s always been unbearably good at getting underneath Harry’s skin. The only thing Harry can do right now is grit his teeth and reach up to fix the blankets, touching as little of Louis as possible.</p>
<p>“Would you like to put your arm underneath, sir?” Harry asks, gripping the edge of the covers tightly.</p>
<p>“I want you to kiss me,” Louis says, licking at his bottom lip.</p>
<p>Harry bends his head, trying not to look at Louis’ face. Doesn’t say anything. “Don’t you want to kiss me?” Louis coaxes, drawing one knee up underneath the duvet and settling a hand on the top of Harry’s head.</p>
<p>“You know I can’t do that,” Harry says. It only comes out a little bit broken.</p>
<p>“I’m saying you can, though,” Louis says.</p>
<p>Shut up. Just shut up. Please shut up.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t. “Just one kiss,” he continues, wiggling until he’s mostly out from underneath the blankets Harry had so painstakingly arranged. “My goodnight kiss. I won’t be able to sleep without it.”</p>
<p>“Just one,” Harry says, trying to keep his voice firm. Give Louis even an inch of wiggle room and he’ll take miles.</p>
<p>“Promise,” Louis says solemnly, hand still heavy on top of Harry’s head. “Just one.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry says shortly. He’s on his knees anyway, just shuffles up a little, bends over Louis with Louis’ hand still threaded in his hair, and presses their mouths together softly, gently.</p>
<p>Then pulls away.</p>
<p>Louis’ hand doesn’t leave his hair. “That wasn’t a proper kiss,” he scolds. “It has to be a proper kiss or else it doesn’t count.”</p>
<p>Harry might cry, and he’s not even sure whether it’s from wanting to kiss Louis properly or wanting to be curled up in his own cold, tiny bed. Maybe both.</p>
<p>“Fine,” Harry says, and bends back down to kiss Louis again, hotter and more demanding this time, tongue asking for entrance to Louis’ mouth. Louis grants it, other hand coming up to clutch at Harry’s shoulder, and kisses back just as passionately, tongue swiping against Harry’s, coaxing him into playing the way Louis wants to.</p>
<p>It’s dizzyingly hot. Harry’s cock thickens in his trousers, hands gaining a mind of their own and coming up to press Louis back down into the bed, pinning him there. He only barely manages to stop himself from climbing up onto the bed and slotting himself on top of Louis so he can hold him down <i>properly</i>, make him submit in a way he’s only ever done with Harry.</p>
<p>He manages to pull back before he does that. He doesn’t manage to go far, pressing his forehead against Louis’ chest and breathing unevenly, but it’s a start.</p>
<p>“Now I need a cuddle,” Louis murmurs, stroking Harry’s hair. “Can’t sleep without a goodnight cuddle, me.”</p>
<p>Harry bites back a slightly hysterical laugh. There’s only one way a ‘goodnight cuddle’ can end, and if they keep doing this they’re going to get caught. He’s surprised they haven’t been caught already.</p>
<p>When they do get caught it’ll be Harry’s life on the line, not Louis’. At best he’ll be sentenced to life in the dungeon, never to see Louis again. He doesn’t want to think about the worst case scenario.</p>
<p>He’s still going to do it. God help him, he’s still going to do it.</p>
<p>“Shove over, then,” he mutters, lifting his head from Louis’ chest long enough for him to wiggle into the middle of the bed, making room for Harry. It’s warm underneath the covers, toasty with the stones, and it only gets toastier when he curls up around Louis’ back, pressing his face in between his shoulder blades. </p>
<p>“You’re going to get me killed,” he says roughly, squeezing Louis around his naked waist. Louis definitely wasn’t naked when he got underneath the blankets, so his clothing must be tangled at the bottom of the bed somewhere, waiting for Harry to fish out in the morning.</p>
<p>Louis’ only response is to press his arse back against Harry’s crotch. Harry shudders, palming at Louis’ belly and helping him establish a rhythm, grinding back as Harry pushes forward.</p>
<p>“I want a goodnight fuck,” Louis demands suddenly, still moving against Harry easily.</p>
<p>Harry bites him, letting his teeth sink in just enough to leave a mark. “You shouldn’t know words like that, my lord,” he says, soothing the bite with his tongue.</p>
<p>Louis squirms in his arms, turning over. “I shouldn’t know words like what?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he pushes Harry onto his back, blankets falling off as he straddles his hips. “<i>Fuck</i>? Even though we’ve been fooling around since we were old enough to realize that we’re attracted to each other?”</p>
<p>“You have a dirty mouth,” Harry tells him, nipping at Louis’ plush bottom lip, not lingering long enough for him to turn it into a kiss. “Where’d you learn to talk like that?”</p>
<p>This is far from being the picture of haughty royalty Louis is supposed to be able to pull off, but Harry’s far from caring.</p>
<p>Possibly never has cared.</p>
<p>“Learned the same way I learned everything else, didn’t I,” Louis snaps, frustration overcoming his face, “with you.”</p>
<p>One day he’s going to properly break Harry’s heart and Harry doesn’t know whether that would be better than all the sitting around, waiting for it to happen. Or what he’s feeling right now, the twist inside his chest that’s nearly a physical pain.</p>
<p>“Don’t say that,” he says, more pleading than anything. He reaches up to touch Louis’ face, soft skin against his fingertips.</p>
<p>Louis’ face doesn’t lose any of its frustration, but he lets Harry kiss him anyway, distracting as he uses one hand to grope underneath the bed for where he stashed the oil from the last time.</p>
<p>From yesterday, because god knows he’s not capable of resisting Louis. It’s going to be his downfall and he knows it.</p>
<p>“Shh, my love,” Harry murmurs, splaying one hand out over Louis’ back and using the other to circle two fingers around his rim, not quite dipping in. Just feeling.</p>
<p>“I hate it when you call me that,” Louis says, dropping full force against Harry’s chest and tucking his face into Harry’s shoulder. Harry makes a noise, vaguely curious, and presses a finger inside Louis’ hole, slick and easy.</p>
<p>They’ve done this enough times that he knows Louis is going to clench up around it before he’s even in to the second knuckle. It still makes his breath catch when Louis does.</p>
<p>“You are,” Harry says, crooking his finger gently and letting his eyes slip closed. “The love of my life.”</p>
<p>Louis sniffs wetly against his shoulder, hiding his face for another minute before he pushes himself up. “One more, please,” he requests, so nicely Harry is left blinking at the manners.</p>
<p>He adds a second finger, though, because he knows Louis asking means he’s ready for it, setting about fingering him open, making room for Harry’s cock to fit inside.</p>
<p>“Three,” Louis says after a few more seconds. It’s probably too fast, will hurt a little, but Harry does it anyway. Probably would do anything Louis asked of him.</p>
<p>“You’re going to hurt yourself one day,” Harry says, as Louis lifts himself up off his fingers only seconds after Harry has given him a third.</p>
<p>Louis glares down at him, yanking the small pot of oil out of Harry’s hand completely and rubbing a handful over Harry’s cock, perking it up even more. If that’s even possible. “You do what I say,” he snaps, shifting around on his knees, tossing the oil back onto the ground without even bothering to re-cap it.</p>
<p>Great. Harry’s going to have to clean that up in the morning.</p>
<p>“I always do what you say, m’lord,” he says, inhaling sharply and nearly choking on his own spit as Louis bears down on him, cock slipping easily into the tight smooth grip of his hole.</p>
<p>“You fucking better,” Louis spits, hands planted on Harry’s abs, except he’s losing control of his accent, vowels slipping into consonants, <i>better</i> coming out as <i>bettah</i>. “Because you’re - <i>fuck</i>,” as Harry’s cock skids against his prostate, “my servant. And you belong to me.”</p>
<p>He’s not wrong. “And you,” Harry whispers, wrapping both hands over Louis’ hips and lifting his knees to get some leverage, “are mine.”</p>
<p>He starts thrusting, moving his hips to match Louis’ movements, twisting so fucking prettily on top of Harry, and it’s not what Louis wants, judging from the curl of his mouth.</p>
<p>Harry has never been the <i>lie there and take it</i> type, not with Louis, and he’s not about to start just because Louis is in a mood and wants to order Harry around.</p>
<p>He’s spent a lifetime ordering Harry around, even before either of them really understood what his title meant, and for the most part Harry will do what he wants because Louis fucking <i>lights up</i> when he gets his way, but not during sex. During sex Harry is the one in control, and that’s the way they both like it.</p>
<p>Regardless of whatever Louis is trying to prove right now.</p>
<p>Sweat gleams on Louis’ neck, his chest, as he moves, fighting Harry every step of the way, even though his cock is slapping up against his belly, almost crying for a hand to wrap around it. Harry won’t be the one to do that, not when Louis is being so abstinent.</p>
<p>“You’re my fucking servant,” Louis says, taking his hands off Harry’s abs to grip his own thighs, nails digging little crescent marks into his skin. “You’ll do as I tell you.”</p>
<p>It’d be more effective if he hadn’t squeezed his eyes closed as he’d said it, face breaking open in the way it only does when it feels really good and he wants to let Harry give it to him <i>properly</i>.</p>
<p>And Harry.</p>
<p>Harry is <i>frustrated</i>. With his life, with Louis, with their inability to be together, with their inability to stop being together. So he lets his knees drop back down to the mattress, hands doing the same, and says, “Fine.”</p>
<p><i>Fine</i>. If Louis thinks he can fuck himself better than Harry can, <i>fine</i>. If Louis thinks that being in charge will staunch the flow of anguish they both feel every day from all the things that go unsaid between them, <i>fine</i>. That’s all. Fine. Just fine.</p>
<p>Louis’ rhythm slows to a grinding rock. “Fine?” he repeats.</p>
<p>Harry clenches his jaw. “Fine.”</p>
<p>“Fine,” Louis says, tossing his head, moving his hair out of his face. He keeps grinding tiny, maddening circles, all tight heat clenching around Harry’s cock, and frowns down at him. Doesn’t say anything else.</p>
<p>The urge to touch him, to run his hands all over every inch of him, is like an itch in Harry’s veins. But he won’t. Not until Louis asks him to. <i>Begs</i> him to.</p>
<p>“Tell me how I feel,” Louis demands, lifting up the slightest bit before sinking back down, fluid and graceful.</p>
<p>“No,” Harry says immediately. “You’re an ungrateful fucking brat, I’m not going to tell you how you feel just because you tell me to.”</p>
<p>Or Harry can blurt out whatever he’s thinking and turn this not-quite-fight into an actual fight. That works too.</p>
<p>Louis stops moving entirely, sitting all the way down, arse flush against Harry’s hips, full of cock. Still.</p>
<p>“Yes you are,” Louis says, glaring down at him. “Because you’re my servant and you have to do what I tell you to or else I’m going to have you banished.”</p>
<p>Harry’s jaw aches from how hard he’s clenching it. “So have me banished, then,” he says, every hint of irritation and frustration and anger he’s feeling bleeding out into his tone.</p>
<p>Louis’ frown slips into a pout as easily as everything else he’s ever done. “You don’t want to?” he asks, mouth pursed ridiculously. Harry still wants to kiss him. </p>
<p>“No,” Harry says, gripping the sheets between his fingers, resisting the urge to touch Louis’ skin, hold his thighs and help him establish a rhythm to get them both off.</p>
<p>“You don’t want to tell me how good I feel around your cock?” Louis continues, planting his hands back on Harry’s abs and lifting up just an inch before sliding back down.</p>
<p>Anything other than silence would be a lie. Harry doesn’t say anything, mouth set and tense. There’s a lifetime of history between them, one Harry can’t help but remember every time he looks at Louis, and his heart aches knowing that they don’t have a lifetime together ahead of them.</p>
<p>They can’t keep doing this.</p>
<p>“I want you to,” Louis says softly, blinking slowly. Sweat gleams off both of them, trickling down Harry’s temple and into his hair. All he wants is to fuck his hips up, meet Louis thrust for thrust.</p>
<p>“I know,” Harry says shortly. The sheets are soft and supple in his hands. Nowhere near as soft as Louis’ skin would feel.</p>
<p>Louis licks his bottom lip thoughtfully. “You feel so good in me,” he murmurs, changing tactics abruptly. “Thick and hard. Know you like knowing that yours is the only cock I’ve ever had.”</p>
<p>Way to cut straight to the heart. Or maybe the cock, Harry doesn’t know. The only things he knows right now are in this bed with him.</p>
<p>Louis’ eyebrows furrow, pinching the way they do when it feels really good and he wants it to be even better.</p>
<p>“<i>Please</i>,” he says. </p>
<p>Begs. And that’s all it takes, that’s all Harry can handle.</p>
<p>He lifts his hips, falling into a quick, easy rhythm, one that feels good for both of them, and grips Louis’ thighs, pleasure building in his own belly. It feels like everything good all at once, everything Harry could ever want, could ever ask for.</p>
<p>“You know that you are,” he says, watching the way Louis’ eyelashes sweep against his cheeks every time he blinks slow and heavy, twisting to meet Harry’s movements. “You’re everything to me.”</p>
<p>Louis’ head tips back, mouth parting. His hands clutch at Harry’s on his thighs, trembling now, and repeats, “<i>Please</i>, Harry, <i>please</i> - ” mostly babbling.</p>
<p>Harry knows what he’s asking for anyway. He lets go of Louis’ thighs in favour of wrapping his arms around his back and flips them over carefully, pinning Louis to the mattress with his weight, and picks up right where he left off, only faster and deeper.</p>
<p>“You are mine,” he says, burying his face in the smooth, tempting skin of Louis’ neck and letting his teeth drag over it. “Never going to be anyone else’s, baby, at least not in any way that matters. Not with the way we grew up together, skinned our knees together, bruised our elbows together, shared our first kisses, first <i>everything</i> - ”</p>
<p>That’s all it takes for Louis to come, muscles fluttering around Harry’s cock, whimpering low and soft in the back of his throat, making a mess of himself. Harry isn’t even watching, not really, not with his face still buried in Louis’ neck, marking him up, but he knows that it’s unbearably pretty anyway.</p>
<p>Harry follows him over the edge, unable to stop himself, too overwhelmed by how Louis feels around him, by all the <i>feelings</i> he has, by how good the sex always is. Every time without fail. It’s a long, throbbing orgasm, pulsing deep in Louis’ arse, filling him up, making him messy.</p>
<p>It takes them both a few minutes to catch their breath, slick and sweaty against each other, Harry’s cock slowly softening, still inside of Louis.</p>
<p>Sex is always amazing between them, but this might be Harry’s favourite part. The way Louis will never ask him to pull out, despite his exaggerated aversion to discomfort, until Harry is good and ready to.</p>
<p>They kiss a little more before Harry does that, languid and easy. Harry feels like jello and he can’t imagine that Louis feels much more solid.</p>
<p>Louis makes a soft noise as Harry pulls out, one that sounds vaguely displeased, but doesn’t actually protest, rolling over onto his side away from Harry.</p>
<p>There was a day, a long time ago, that Harry thought that meant that Louis wanted to be left alone. Those days are long since passed, and he doesn’t waste any time curling up right against Louis’ back, using the edge of the sheet to clean the come off of Louis’ belly the best that he can.</p>
<p>Then he presses his nose against the back of Louis’ neck, kissing him gently. Just a little. Just a few times.</p>
<p>Louis wiggles, but it’s a happy wiggle, not the <i>stop that right now you oaf</i> wiggle. “Tell me,” he murmurs softly, finding Harry’s hand and tangling their fingers together on his belly.</p>
<p>The ache in Harry’s chest flares up again, less vehement this time. Sex always does that to him. “I’ve told you a million times before.”</p>
<p>“So tell me a million and one,” Louis whispers.</p>
<p>“I know you know,” Harry says, letting his eyes slip closed as he draws the blankets up over their shoulders.</p>
<p>It’s warm under the blankets, toasty. Harry’s already half asleep. “I want to hear it again,” Louis insists, drowsiness in his voice.</p>
<p>Not saying it isn’t going to make it any less true.</p>
<p>“You’re the love of my love,” Harry says, squeezing Louis’ waist. “Nothing can ever change that.”</p>
<p>Louis squeezes him back, fingers still laced. “Love you too,” he mumbles, mostly asleep.</p>
<p>The words are true. They’re also going to get Harry in the most trouble he’s ever been in.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Supernatural Creatures</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The drabbles in this chapter are unrelated to each other. They are: Dragon Harry, Werewolves, Pet Dragon</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Violence<br/>Fluff<br/>One-sided Angst</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Dragon Harry</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Louis turns the key in the lock, shoves the door open with his shoulder, kicking old newspapers to the side as he makes his way inside. He dumps his bag on the floor the second he’s in, toeing out of his shoes, leaving them where they land.</p>
<p>There’s clutter everywhere. That’s the first thing he notices. The second thing he notices are the talon marks gouged into the cheap Ikea table in the hallway.</p>
<p>Louis sighs, sharp and annoyed, and calls, “Seriously?” into the depths of the flat.</p>
<p>There’s no answer. He rolls his eyes and trudges through the hall, flicking on lights as he goes. The mess doesn’t stop as he goes, and Louis isn’t exactly the neatest of people himself but this is just ridiculous.</p>
<p>The mess in the bedroom is even worse. Louis flips on that light too, sighing louder. “It’s only been three days,” he points out.</p>
<p>Harry cracks open an eye from beneath his mound of blankets. His hair lies limp against his forehead, tangled and greasy, like he hasn’t showered since Louis left. “Seventy-eight hours,” he grumbles, as though the extra six hours make that much of a difference.</p>
<p>“Have you even moved since I left?” Louis asks, leaning against the doorframe.</p>
<p>An arm comes out from under the blankets to wave limply towards an empty plate on the bedside table. “Had to feed myself,” he says accusingly.</p>
<p>It’s only been three days and he’s turned into an emo mess. How is this Louis’ life.</p>
<p>“Okay, get up,” Louis demands, pushing himself off the door and folding his arms across his chest. “Right now.”</p>
<p>The other eye opens. Harry squints at him suspiciously. “Why?”</p>
<p>Clearly he’s in a stubborn mood. There’s nothing more annoying than dealing with a stubborn dragon. Luckily, Louis has a surefire way of getting this particular disagreeable dragon to do what he tells him to.</p>
<p>“Because it’s been three days,” Louis says simply, dragging his shirt up over his head and flinging it down onto the floor.</p>
<p>A low, throaty growl starts from the back of Harry’s throat. The neighbors are going to write another complaint about them in the morning, Louis can already tell.</p>
<p>“It’s been three days and you’ve only had your mediocre treasures to get you through it,” Louis continues, fiddling with the button on his jeans. “That’s nothing like having the real thing, is it?”</p>
<p>The growling gets louder. It’s a good thing Louis stopped being embarrassed by their entire town having a decent idea of what their sex life is like a long time ago. There’s perks to dating a dragon, after all. Fire breath is no joke when Harry’s pissed at someone.</p>
<p>Slowly, Harry sits up. He’s wearing Louis’ favourite t-shirt, and it’s stretched across his shoulders. Great. Another thing Louis won’t be able to wear again. His life, honestly.</p>
<p>“So I guess the real question is, what are you going to do about it?” Louis asks, popping the button open, going for the zipper.</p>
<p>Harry launches himself out of the bed. Louis gets a few new scratches in the process, but the end result is so worth it.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Werewolves</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is this really necessary?” Louis asks, rattling the chains pointedly.</p>
<p>Harry inhales deeply, catching the scent of honeysuckle and lime, something sweet and sour at the same time. Moonlight shines through the window on the wall opposite, bathing the room in a soft glow. It’ll be midnight soon and Harry can already feel the shift upon him, teeth growing sharp and pointed in his mouth, nails lengthening on the ends of his fingers.</p>
<p>“Yes. We’ve already talked about this, Lou.”</p>
<p>It almost hurts to look at Louis now, instincts warring with rationality. Common sense says that the chains are necessary, that they’ll prevent him from hurting Louis during the full moon, but his instincts are telling him that it would be okay if a bit of Louis’ blood made its way out of his body. Just a bit, just enough to appease Harry’s desire for it.</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Louis says, wiggling a finger under the chain, stroking the inside of Harry’s wrist. He’s almost close enough for Harry to reach out to touch, almost close enough to be in Harry’s lap. “Tell me again.”</p>
<p>That’s just - blatantly unfair. Harry can’t have this conversation right now, not when the darkness inside of him is so close to the surface, and Louis knows that.</p>
<p>“You should go,” Harry says, breath already starting to come a little more raggedly. “You need to go.”</p>
<p>“Tell me again,” Louis repeats, sliding his hand up to lace his fingers through Harry’s.<br/>Harry shudders, unable to stop himself from leaning forward, into Louis’ space. He can’t stop smelling him, <i>scenting him</i>, and he just - wants. He wants.</p>
<p>“I’ll hurt you,” Harry says, closing his eyes and gripping Louis’ fingers tight. “I’ll <i>want</i> to hurt you.”</p>
<p>He can already feel it, the desire to bend Louis backwards until his throat is bare, exposed, and then litter him with bite marks, each a little more bloody than the last, until Louis is limp and unresisting in his arms, completely Harry’s. Until every part of him belongs to Harry and no amount of denial could make that untrue. </p>
<p>“So you’ve said,” Louis says, sliding into Harry’s lap fluidly, bringing that sweet sour scent closer, close enough to <i>taste</i>. Harry moans low in his throat, arms jerking instinctively, trying to wrap around Louis’ back and keep him exactly where Harry wants him. “You know what I think, though?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Harry says, because he does know. Louis has made his feelings on this subject perfectly clear.</p>
<p>Louis makes a soft, amused noise. “You never think your plans entirely through,” he says unsympathetically, tugging their joint hands until the chains clank against the wall. “There’s nowhere you can go, so you’re going to have to listen to it again.”</p>
<p>Harry breathes a little deeper, almost able to taste Louis on his tongue. </p>
<p>“You’re not going hurt me,” Louis tells him, leaning forward until their mouths just barely touch. “Not anymore than I can take, anyway. You’d never hurt me more than I can take.”</p>
<p>The shift is almost here, and Harry’s cock is hard, pressing up against Louis’ arse. “You don’t know that for sure.”</p>
<p>“You’re right,” Louis says, kissing him once, short. “I don’t know for sure, but I know that I trust you and that the part of you that wants to hurt me only wants to hurt me in the best way.”</p>
<p>He kisses Harry again, more of a peck than anything, and lifts himself up off Harry’s lap, leaving the room and locking the door behind him.</p>
<p>Harry howls out his rage and arousal to the moon until he passes out.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Pet Dragon</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lou, stop that!” Harry shouts. He sounds mad. Way too mad for anything Louis can think of that he’s done in the past two hours.</p>
<p>Two hours ago, Harry yelled at him for spilling the milk all over the floor and leaving it instead of cleaning it up. In his defense, though, Louis had been chasing a monster at the time. He’d been kind of busy.</p>
<p>Not that he would have cleaned it up, anyway.</p>
<p>Louis looks up, and he immediately bursts out laughing. Harry’s expression is stormy, and it’s actually rather good, that face. His angriest face, the one he only ever wears on special occasions, occasions during which Louis had made him <i>really</i> mad.</p>
<p>It’s hard to look intimidating when he’s singed head to toe, though.</p>
<p>“You look ridiculous,” Louis says through gasping breaths, clutching Jackie to his chest. She squawks as if in agreement.</p>
<p>“Lou,” Harry repeats, using that calm, even tone he always uses when he wants to kill someone, “How many times have I told you not to squeeze her like that? It always sets her off and we haven’t finished fireproofing yet.”</p>
<p>Louis gives Jackie a kiss on the top of her head before setting her down to play on her own, standing up gingerly. “I’m sorry,” he says solemnly. He’s under no illusion that Harry will believe him - the words are clearly untrue - but just saying them counts for something. “If it helps, you look really cute like that.”</p>
<p>Harry folds his arms across his chest, leveling Louis with an unimpressed stare. “It doesn’t.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Louis says, tugging one of Harry’s hands away from his chest and tangling their fingers together, starts dragging him down the hall. “Lemme make it up to you in the shower.”</p>
<p>Harry huffs out a sigh, but he doesn’t resist.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Time Travel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Sexual Tension<br/>Unnecessary Sexual Teasing</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry wakes with a start. There’s something slapping at his cheek, annoying and insistent. Groaning, he reaches up to stop it and manages to grab a hand, opening his eyes, still thick with sleep. “Ugh, Lou, stop it.”</p>
<p>Louis blinks down at him, eyelashes thick and full. “You recognize me,” he says, a hint of wonder in his voice.</p>
<p>It’s Harry’s turn to blink. “Huh?”</p>
<p>It takes another a second, but then Harry gets it. He sits up, still holding Louis’ hand, and grabs his face with the other. “You,” he starts, and can’t quite figure out how to finish that sentence, because Louis is - </p>
<p>Louis is nineteen. Again.</p>
<p>“I didn’t recognize you,” Louis continues, pulling a strand of Harry’s hair with his free hand. “What happened to the curls?”</p>
<p>What is <i>happening</i>. This doesn’t make sense. “What?”</p>
<p>“Your hair used to be curlier,” Louis says, tugging again. “And you have <i>tattoos</i>.” His voice is a mix between horrified and intrigued, and Harry must be more tired than he thought because the only thing he does is blink. Again.</p>
<p>It’s too early for this.</p>
<p>“How did you even <i>get</i> here?” Harry asks, slumping back against the headboard. He’s still got Louis’ hand tangled up in his, and Louis doesn’t seem like he’s going to pull away.</p>
<p>“How many do you have?” Louis continues as though Harry hasn’t said anything, pulling the covers down to expose his chest and abdomen. Harry lets him, but only because he’s too tired to put up a protest. “When did you start getting them?”</p>
<p>“Lou,” Harry says. “Focus.”</p>
<p>Louis blinks, looking back up at Harry’s face. His mouth curves into a smile, one that’s automatic and reserved for Harry. It looks a little different than it does now, some laugh lines missing, no beard to speak of, but it’s unmistakably the same smile. Harry’s smile.</p>
<p>Harry wants to kiss him. He’s not going to, because that would be a little bit weird, but he wants to kiss him.</p>
<p>“You look so different,” Louis says, touching Harry’s cheek, thumb digging into the spot where his dimple appears. “Older.”</p>
<p>“Old?” Harry asks, a little affronted.</p>
<p>Slowly, Louis shakes his head. “Just older.” His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “Bigger.”</p>
<p>Even sitting down, Harry wonders? Shakes the thought out of his head before it can take root. “Lou,” he repeats. “How did you <i>get here</i>?”</p>
<p>Because Louis isn’t supposed to be here right now. Any version of Louis. Current Louis is supposed to be in London, writing with Liam, and as far as Harry knows he is there. Writing with Liam. They talked on the phone three hours ago.</p>
<p>Louis’ grin gets bright again. “I think I’m here because you’re lonely,” he says, shrugging one bare shoulder. Which is - why isn’t he wearing a shirt?</p>
<p>The sheet slips down a little more. Harry doesn’t look to see whether Louis is wearing pants or not. He thinks that might be a little inappropriate.</p>
<p>“Well, yeah,” Harry says, blinking again. It feels impossible to stop with the blinking. “I miss you.”</p>
<p>Louis’ grin slides right off his face. “Where did I go?”</p>
<p>His voice is scared and anxious. Harry sits up again, grabbing for Louis’ other hand. “Shit, no, don’t worry, you’re fine. You’re just in London right now, that’s all.”</p>
<p>And also here, somehow, and nineteen. Harry must be dreaming. It’s the only possible explanation. Louis is twenty-four, not nineteen, and he’s had scruff on his face for so long now Harry has almost permanent beard burn.</p>
<p>He’s not complaining.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Louis says. “How long have I been gone?”</p>
<p>He’s taking to this much better than Harry would have expected him to. Louis is still the same person now he was then, but five years has faded the exact memory of how relentless Louis was back then. Of how much he used to push and push and push until he got his way, until he got an answer he liked.</p>
<p>He still does that, but it’s much more manageable now. He’s mellowed a little, and Harry likes to think that it’s in part due to him. </p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it,” Harry says easily, squeezing Louis’ hand. “Why are you here right now?”</p>
<p>“Because you have bags underneath your eyes the size of England that say you haven’t slept properly in days,” Louis says matter-of-factly. “Clearly I’m here so you can spoon me to your heart’s content. And if your cock happens to find its way into my bum in the process, well. I’m here to help you through the night, after all.”</p>
<p>Harry very nearly chokes on his own saliva. “That’s not going to happen,” he manages.</p>
<p>“Why not?” Louis asks, hand twitching in Harry’s like he’s thinking about yanking it away and shoving it down Harry’s pants. “How old’re you now, anyway? Twenty-three, twenty-four? Your cock’s probably gotten a lot bigger. Don’t you wanna know what it’d be like to have me bounce on it? I must have changed just as much as you have. Do I have giant biceps now? I bet I have giant biceps now.”</p>
<p>Christ. “You’re not gonna <i>bounce on it</i>,” Harry hisses, gripping Louis’ wrists tighter, just in case he is planning something. “We’re not going to have sex.”</p>
<p>He kind of wants to, though, he can’t deny it. Louis hasn’t done any growing since he was nineteen, not the way Harry has, so he’s not a different size than Harry is used to. But Louis at nineteen hadn’t been as sexually experienced as he is at twenty-four, and if Harry could probably make Louis cry in that sexy way he only does when he’s overwhelmed and feeling so good he can’t take it any more without even really trying.</p>
<p>He can still do that now, he just has to try a lot harder, is all.</p>
<p>“Why not?” Louis asks, raising his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t mind.”</p>
<p>Current Louis, he means. Twenty-four year old Louis.</p>
<p>He’s not wrong, either. Louis probably <i>wouldn’t</i> mind - it’s still Louis Harry would be having sex with, even if he’s the wrong age. Louis would probably just want all the dirty details and to re-enact every moment of it, taunt Harry with questions of <i>did it feel this good when young me was doing it?</i></p>
<p>“No, but I would,” Harry says.</p>
<p>Louis’ eyebrows raise even further. “You don’t want to have sex with me?” he questions in disbelief.</p>
<p>“No, of course I want to have sex with you,” Harry hastens to explain. “Always wanna have sex with you, baby. Seventeen year old me would hate the thought of you having sex with anyone who isn’t him, though, even if it is only me.”</p>
<p>It’s a confusing thought. Harry’s confused by it, and he’s the one having it. It takes a minute, but Louis catches up, seems to understand what Harry is trying to say.</p>
<p>“You are the type to get jealous of your own damn prick,” he mutters, stroking Harry’s shoulder with one finger. “I hate you.”</p>
<p>Harry can’t stop his smile, loosening his grip on Louis’ wrists. “You gonna let me spoon you so I can get some sleep now?” he asks. “Considering that’s why you’re here and all.”</p>
<p>Louis grumbles a little, but he wiggles his hands free and lies down, bare curve of his back so inviting, so gorgeous. “Fine. But don’t blame me when your cock forgets how old I am during the middle of the night and finds its own way into me bum. It’s practically sentient, that thing.”</p>
<p>Louis fits into his arms the same way he always does, and all the tension that’s been sitting in Harry’s chest for the past few days eases. “I love you too,” he murmurs into Louis’ ear, feels the way Louis shivers against him.</p>
<p>This Louis and current Louis, who’s in London waiting for Harry to come home, probably just as grumpy and disgruntled as this Louis is. Every Louis. Harry loves them all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. University A/B/O</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>A/B/O Dynamics<br/>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Breathplay<br/>One-sided Antagonism</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s no smell permeating the air as Harry takes the stairs two at a time. The rooms in the dorm are scent-proof for this exact reason, something he takes a second to be grateful for. When he reaches the door, he twists the knob first, testing. It’s locked, just as it should be. Harry uses his key, slipping inside quickly, silently, locking it behind him again as soon as it’s latched.</p>
<p>Louis is already naked, splayed out on the bed. His cock is hard and flushed against his belly, sweat glistening in the low light of the lamp on the bedside table. He’s beautiful, completely unashamed of his own wantonness. </p>
<p>“Little O,” Harry murmurs, more for himself than for Louis.</p>
<p>Immediately, he’s pegged in the center of his chest with a foam stress ball. He sees it coming, could have stopped it easily, but he lets it hit him regardless. They’ve done this enough times for him to know how Louis gets during his heats.</p>
<p>“You’re late,” Louis says, half a snarl, eyes flashing the sweetest blue Harry has ever seen.</p>
<p>Harry yanks his shirt over his head, discarding it in a pile of clothes that could be either clean or dirty. With Louis, there’s no way to tell. “I came as soon as I could.”</p>
<p>Telling Louis that his entire life doesn’t revolve around him has never gone over well in the past. It’s why he doesn’t say it now. It’d be a lie anyway – Harry ditched his last two classes to be here right now, but he didn’t feel right walking out in the middle of one.</p>
<p>“I don’t keep you around just for the hell of it, you know,” Louis bites out, drawing a knee up so Harry can see the sheen of slick on the backs of his thighs, already so wet Harry can practically taste it.</p>
<p>He finishes undressing before he answers, despite the way irritation has started to simmer in his gut, mixing with arousal. He’s on the bed before he even knows it, hovering above Louis’ body, and the next logical thing to do is to press his hand down against Louis’ throat. So that’s what he does, pinning Louis to the bed.</p>
<p>“You’re being mean again,” Harry tells him quietly. “We talked about this last time.”</p>
<p>Louis’ hands come up to grip at Harry’s wrist, eyes gone wide, but he doesn’t try to pull Harry’s hand away from his throat. His breathing has gone fast and ragged, and Harry’s been hard since he pulled open the door to the dormitory, but he’s just realizing it now.</p>
<p>“You fight being good for me every time,” Harry says, stroking his thumb along the underside of Louis’ jaw without letting go of his throat. “It’s like you forget that I can smell how much you want it or something.”</p>
<p>Abruptly, Harry becomes aware of the way his own instincts have kicked up at least ten notches since walking into the room. The way his urge to hold Louis down, to <i>mate him</i>, has strengthened the way it always does when he goes into rut.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” he says, letting go of Louis all at once and rolling onto the mattress beside him, lying on his bed and staring blankly up at the ceiling.</p>
<p>One day, he’s going to stop getting caught off guard by this. They’ve been doing this for six months, and every time Louis’ heat has kicked Harry into rut. Every. Single. Time.</p>
<p>Louis climbs on top of him, foot getting tangled in the sheets. Automatically, Harry grabs for his hips to steady him, Louis’ skin hot and smooth under his hands. Louis bends all the way down, so their chests are pressed together, and smudges a kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth. Up close, he smells even better, wet, needy little omega waiting for him in this bed.</p>
<p>“You forget too,” Louis whispers, grabbing Harry’s hand and putting it back on his throat, so trusting. “You have to put some work in before I’ll let you have anything.”</p>
<p>His words are at complete odds with his actions. That, at least, Harry is used to. He acts like he says exactly what he wants every time, Louis does, but the truth of the matter is that he plays hard to get more often than not. Invites Harry over for sex and makes snide comments, insults him, riles him up, and still expects to get treated like the only thing that should matter to him.</p>
<p>It’d be easier if they were in an actual relationship, Harry’s pretty sure. Does it matter that they have sex outside of their respective cycles? Yeah, of course it does. Will Louis ever actually admit that out loud? Who fucking knows.</p>
<p>Harry’s lack of response must be getting to Louis. He rolls his eyes, always more short-tempered and irritated during his heats, and pinches at Harry’s nipple. Harry flinches, swatting Louis hand away with the one he hasn’t got curled around Louis’ throat.</p>
<p>“What do you want?” Louis demands. There’s only half as much heat in his voice now, ebbed by the way Harry’s touching him. “You want me to apologize or something?”</p>
<p>An apology wouldn’t hurt, actually. Harry stays stubbornly silent for long enough that Louis rolls his eyes again, flicking his hair out of his eyes carelessly, and then ducks down Harry’s body so he can take his cock into his mouth.</p>
<p>Harry inhales sharply, curling his fingers into his palms so he won’t reach down and thread them through Louis’ hair, guide him into a rhythm. Louis rarely does this. He’s never done it during his heat.</p>
<p>Louis’ mouth is hot and wet around him. He swallows Harry down with ease, the head of his cock already bumping against the back of his throat. He’s so good, so <i>quiet</i>, blinking sweet eyes up at Harry, cheeks hollowed as he sucks, and as far as apologies go it’s a pretty damn good one.</p>
<p>“I want,” Harry starts, faltering. It’s hard to concentrate on anything other than the urge to fuck Louis’ mouth when he went down on Harry so willingly. “I want you to have everything you want.”</p>
<p>It’s the coward’s way out, Harry knows. It’s not that it’s untrue – it’s true, of course it is – but saying that instead of any of the things sitting deep in his chest still feels like a little bit of a lie. He uncurls his fists and urges Louis up, the head of his cock popping out of Louis’ mouth with a slick noise. It’s a noise that sends a stab of heat straight through Harry’s gut, and he feels like all of his emotions are much closer to the surface than they usually are.</p>
<p>“Everything?” Louis repeats, the word whispered into the air between them. His lips brush against the inside of Harry’s wrist as he adjusts himself, reaching back to hold Harry’s cock steady as he sinks down onto it. Harry’s breath punches right out of him at the easy slide. It’s impossible to tell how long Louis was playing with himself for before Harry arrived, but clearly he hadn’t just been touching his cock.</p>
<p>“Wanna give me this every time I need it, huh?” Louis asks, starting to move before Harry’s ready for it. Harry curses, hands flying out to grip at Louis’ hips, help him bounce up and down. He can already feel his knot forming at the base of his cock, a sure sign that he’s in rut. He always comes so much faster when he’s in rut. “Wanna give it to me whenever I want it.”</p>
<p>He’s breathless, cheeks flushed, eyes slightly glazed, chasing his first orgasm. He feels incredible, tight and wet around Harry’s cock, and fuck if Harry doesn’t want to bite him. Give him that mating bite he’s always teasing Harry with when he’s like this.</p>
<p>“Yeah, baby,” Harry responds. He can’t lie when Louis is like this, desperate and turned on, when he needs Harry more than he ever does. It’s already getting so hard to resist the urge to flip them over, to hold Louis still and fuck him harder, deeper than he’s giving it to himself. “Want to give it to you whenever you want it.”</p>
<p>He curls his fingers around Louis’ cock, barely giving him more than a few strokes before Louis is hiccupping out soft, needy noises and coming all over Harry’s fingers.</p>
<p>“God,” Harry groans. He can’t take it anymore, letting his instincts take over. Clutches at one of Louis’ thighs, the other between his shoulder blades, rolling them over neat enough that he doesn’t slip out along the way. His brain feels cloudy with the urge to fuck, pressing his hand back against Louis’ throat, setting a harder, faster pace than the one Louis had been using. Come gets smeared all over Louis’ skin, and the only possible way he could get prettier is if it was Harry’s come.</p>
<p>Louis whimpers, eyes filling with tears. He grabs for Harry’s wrist again, curling his fingers around it. “Please,” he slurs, mouth open, tongue flashing pink, “please, please – ”</p>
<p>Harry smashes their mouths together, awkward and rough. It’s hard to care about that when Louis feels so good, <i>smells</i> so good. It’s like all of Harry’s senses are being drowned in a cacophony of <i>Louis Louis Louis</i> and Harry can’t get enough of it.</p>
<p>“Sweet little O,” Harry gets out between kisses, because it’s true, no matter how much Louis tries to resist it at first. Always takes him at least one orgasm before he gives into it, before all he wants is for Harry to take care of him.</p>
<p>“Want it,” Louis demands, arching up into Harry’s body, curling his thigh against Harry’s hip, trying to tug him deeper with his whole body. “Please, Harry, want your knot.”</p>
<p>Nothing gets to him like it does when Louis says please. He can’t resist it any longer, rocking his hips in deep, barely moving as his knot starts to lock into place. Fire burns through his soul, flames licking through his entire body, and he knows he’s talking, hissing words into Louis’ mouth, unable to hold them in.</p>
<p>“Gonna mate you one day, little O, keep you fucked full and happy every goddamn day. Never let anyone come between us, keep that mark deep and fresh. Gonna make you mine in a way no one will ever be able to dispute.”</p>
<p>He registers Louis clenching down around his knot as he comes again, throat muscles working against Harry’s palm as he gasps in deep lungfuls of air, fingers trembling against Harry’s wrist. Harry wouldn’t ever hurt him, not in a way that Louis didn’t want, and he can feel himself starting to lose focus, hovering on the edge of coming. Knows that his instincts would never let him go too far and actually keep Louis from breathing, but he doesn’t know if Louis knows that. It’s one of his last rational thoughts, the one that makes him let go of Louis’ throat to cradle the back of his head instead.</p>
<p>Harry starts coming. He loses time to it, the sweet smell of Louis’ arousal enveloping him, cloaking them. Vaguely, he’s aware of the feeling of Louis’ skin under his teeth, the way he tastes, the low, keening way he responds to all of it. He’s perfect, easy and malleable the way he only gets after his first orgasm.</p>
<p>When he comes back to himself, Louis’ throat is littered with bruises. None of them are the mating bite, because no matter how badly Harry wants to do it he’s not sixteen anymore. He’s in control of his instincts.</p>
<p>Mostly.</p>
<p>He’s still coming, but it’s gentler now, getting to the end. Everything feels hazy-good, limbs weaker, heavy and sensitive. Louis is watching him with soft, sleepy eyes, fingers toying with the cross at the end of Harry’s necklace. All marked up like this, he looks like he already belongs to Harry. He’s always a walking wet dream, but right now Harry would probably murder for him.</p>
<p>“You feel so good,” Louis murmurs, his other hand coming up to touch Harry’s cheek gently. Harry closes his eyes and turns into it. He’s floating on a wave of endorphins, searching out Louis’ mouth blindly. Their kiss is much gentler this time, almost sweet. Harry could drown in the taste of Louis’ mouth, minty like he’d brushed his teeth just before Harry had shown up.</p>
<p>It’s a few more minutes before his knot goes down enough to pull out. Any time other than when Louis is in heat, Harry pushes his luck as far as it’ll go, staying in until Louis demands that he pulls out. There’ll be at least two times after this, though, and while it never feels like long enough when Harry closes the door behind him, the knowledge is enough for now.</p>
<p>He doesn’t roll off of Louis, though, settling his hand back over Louis’ throat now that most of the fog has lifted and kissing him again, using his teeth to tug at Louis’ bottom lip until he opens his mouth for Harry, lets him in. They kiss lazily, unhurried, and every instinct Harry has is settled. His come is inside his omega, where it belongs, throat all marked up by Harry’s teeth, and he’s under Harry in a room that smells like only the two of them. Everything is exactly as it should be.</p>
<p>Harry’s body is trying to betray him and slip off into sleep. Determinedly, he keeps kissing Louis, despite the way his tongue is trying to go lax. Things can get hard between them when Louis is being prickly and Harry doesn’t have the patience to coax him into a better mood, but when they’re like this it feels as easy as breathing. Harry is loathe to give that up before he absolutely has to.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Louis whispers against Harry’s mouth, untangling his fingers from the chain around Harry’s neck and patting his chest. “You did good, alpha. Time to get some sleep.”</p>
<p>There’s a warm glow in the center of Harry’s chest. The only time Louis ever calls him <i>alpha</i> is after sex, when Harry’s barely conscious enough to hear it. One day he’s going to slip and say it some other time, and Harry can hardly wait.</p>
<p>He takes his hand off Louis’ throat, ducking his head so he can press one last kiss there, to the spot he’d bite if Louis ever said yes. When he says yes. Louis’ breath hitches, cock twitching weakly against Harry’s hip. He’ll be ready to go again in a couple of hours, but until then they can sleep.</p>
<p>Harry slides onto the spot left on the mattress, pulling Louis close to him and keeping an arm around his waist. “Sleep well, little O,” he mumbles, eyes already closing as Louis presses his face into Harry’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“G’nite, darling,” he thinks he hears Louis whisper back just before sleep takes him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Unrelated AUs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These drabbles are unrelated to each other. They are: Belly Button Ring, Cat Boy, Leaving Town, Group Text, High School - Studying</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Fluff<br/>Angst<br/>An Unnecessary Amount Of Italics</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Belly Button Ring</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“God, I missed you so much,” Harry says, wrapping his arms around Louis’ back and hauling him right up off his feet, clutching him tight. He doesn’t want to let go ever, much less any time soon. This isn’t even the first time they’ve hugged, but it’s been six bloody months of phone calls and texts and Skype sessions that were nowhere near enough and the low-grace ache Harry’s been dealing with is finally gone.</p>
<p>“I love you,” Louis says, arms tight around Harry’s neck as he tries to adjust them so they can kiss properly. If both of their faces are a little wet, neither of them mention it, but it’s been a hard six months, and Harry means that in every sense of the word.</p>
<p>“I love you so much,” Harry says, trying to find his way to the bed blindly. Louis probably wouldn’t care if they fucked right up against the wall, but Harry has bigger plans than that. What kind of reunion is it if they fuck up against the wall instead of on a bed. Louis deserves to be fucked on a bed.</p>
<p>“I know,” Louis says. Harry can hear the smile in his voice, and he fucking loves that. It’s hard to kiss and watch where he’s going at the same time, but he manages it somehow, getting them to the bed successfully.</p>
<p>He kind of drops Louis a little, but only from a foot above the bed and it’s not like he didn’t mean to, so. “Get your kit off, come on,” Louis says impatiently, already struggling out of his own shirt. It’s a frantic rush to get themselves unclothed, and maybe it would be embarrassing how eager Harry is if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s been <i>six bloody months</i>.</p>
<p>He doesn’t think he has anything to be embarrassed about.</p>
<p>He doesn’t think that he has anything to be embarrassed about right up until his eyes land on Louis’ naked body and his mouth goes dry. “What the fuck is that,” he croaks out, already reaching out to touch.</p>
<p>“You said it’d be pretty,” Louis says, lounging on Harry’s bed with a fucking belly button ring threaded through his navel. What the hell.</p>
<p>“You trying to kill me?” Harry asks, sinking down onto his knees beside the bed, already reaching out to touch before he stops to think. “It’s healed, yeah? I can touch it?”</p>
<p>“It’s healed,” Louis confirms, the slightest hint of a waver in his voice, and it’s not because he thinks that Harry doesn’t like it, but Harry going to tell him anyway.</p>
<p>First he’s going to touch it, though, so that’s what he does, fingers gentle on Louis’ belly, stroking across the skin and the ring all the same, unable to stop touching it now that he’s started. “My beautiful gorgeous boy,” Harry murmurs, watching the light glint off of the ring. “Went out and got himself a pretty little belly button ring. Did it hurt?”</p>
<p>He glances up just in time to see Louis wet his lips. “Not as much as any of my tattoos.”</p>
<p>“Just a little pinch that my baby felt,” Harry croons, laying his head on Louis’ stomach, just above the piercing. He feels almost drunk on sex endorphins, on the way Louis smells, on the way he looks. On the way he feels. “When’d you get it?”</p>
<p>Louis’ breathing is shallow. His cock’s hard against his thigh, and Harry’s really interested in that but he’s just a tiny bit more interested in the piercing. “Pretty much the second after you left.”</p>
<p>“No wonder you didn’t wanna have Skype sex,” Harry says, drifting his fingers across the warm metal again. “Thought that was weird, that you didn’t wanna show off how pretty you are when you come and make me wanna hop on a flight just to get back to you.”</p>
<p>“It was a surprise,” Louis says softly, carding his fingers through Harry’s hair. It’s enough talking for Harry, at least for now, because he has a good idea of where he’d like to put his mouth.</p>
<p>“It’s a gorgeous surprise,” Harry agrees, pushing himself back up. “Gonna put my mouth on it, okay?" </p>
<p>He doesn’t wait for Louis to answer, already slicking his tongue across Louis’ flat little belly, going straight for the piercing, and it’s like nothing else Harry has ever felt before. Louis always tells him that he’s obsessed, and Harry’s never quite sure whether he means with Louis’ body in general or something specific, but either way he’s right, and he would do this all night if Louis was inclined to let him.</p>
<p>"Shit,” Louis whispers, voice breaking a bit. “Harry, c’mon, you’re gonna make me come.”</p>
<p>Harry swipes his tongue across the piercing one more time. His brain feels a little fuzzy. “Already? Just from licking you a bit?”</p>
<p>Louis tugs on a strand of Harry’s hair, pulling him up from his belly. “You know what you’re like,” is all he says, but Harry does know what he’s like, so he finishes climbing up onto the bed and takes both of their cocks in one hand. The plan had been to actually get inside of Louis, to fuck him, but that clearly isn’t going to happen, not now that Louis’ gone and gotten a belly button ring.</p>
<p>“I thought about you every single day,” Harry says, groping for the lube with his free hand. He manages to find it without taking his eyes off of Louis’ face and snicks it open, squeezing some out directly onto their cocks. Louis hisses a little, one of his knees banging at Harry’s hip, but he doesn’t protest.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Louis asks. The light shines off Harry’s necklace hanging around his neck, and Harry doesn’t have to ask to know that he’s been wearing it every day for the last six months.</p>
<p>“About how you look when you first wake up in the morning,” Harry says, stroking their cocks, getting into a semblance of a rhythm. He’s not going to last long, but by the looks of it neither is Louis. “How you’re always on about wanting to sleep on clean sheets but never remember to do laundry. How you always say that you hate coffee but you’ll drink mine if I leave it lying around. How no one in the entire world makes me as happy as you do.”</p>
<p>“Proper romantic, you are,” Louis manages, putting his hand over Harry’s and urging him to speed up a little.</p>
<p>Harry brings his free hand down to play with the piercing, just a little. “Not as much as you, apparently.”</p>
<p>“Fuck off,” Louis says, but he doesn’t mean it, not if the way he starts coming is any indication. He goes soft and boneless in a way that always gets to Harry, so he’s not far behind, adding his own come to the mess on Louis’ belly, glistening on the metal of the ring.</p>
<p>This fucking boy is going to be the death of him.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Cat Boy</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cat boy’s here again,” Mel says, draping herself over Louis’ back.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t look up from where he’s sorting through the used books that have come in over the night. “Just leave him be, Mel, he’s not doing anything.”</p>
<p>“He’s not doing anything except making sad puppy dog eyes at you every two minutes,” Mel mutters, but she wanders off anyway, hopefully to go do something useful for a change.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t have high hopes.</p>
<p>It only takes another minute of sorting through the books, keeping his head down, before a shadow falls over him. Louis bites back a smile and examines the book he’s holding, asks, “Can I help you?” without looking up.</p>
<p>“Molly had kittens,” Harry says, voice hushed like he thinks it’s a secret or something.</p>
<p>“Who’s Molly?” Louis asks blandly, entering the book into the system. The archaic system in which it will sit even after it’s sold or destroyed because no one but Louis bothers actually <i>using it</i>.</p>
<p>Louis’ coworkers are heinous.</p>
<p>“Who’s Molly?” Harry gasps, scandalized. “<i>Who’s Molly</i>?”</p>
<p>Louis does actually know which cat is Molly. Harry’s shown him enough pictures that Louis could pick her out of a line-up, if cat line-ups were a thing. He’s way more interested in the tiny little noise that’s coming out of Harry’s jacket than that thought, though.</p>
<p>He lifts his head and levels Harry with a look. “Tell me that’s not meowing I hear coming from your jacket.”</p>
<p>Harry grins, dimples and all, and rests his elbows on the counter. “It’s not meowing you hear coming from my jacket?” he tries.</p>
<p>“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not allowed to bring the cats into the store?” Louis asks. His unimpressed tone comes out more fondly exasperated, but it’s close enough.</p>
<p>“This time is different,” Harry insists. He unzips his jacket and reveals a small ball of gray fur. “This one is for you!”</p>
<p>What even. “I don’t want a cat, Harry. You need to take it back.”</p>
<p>“But it’s for the shop,” Harry protests, holding out the tiny cat in one big hand. “She can be your mascot!”</p>
<p>“The store doesn’t <i>need</i> a mascot,” Louis says, but he takes the kitten anyway, stroking her back gently. She’s soft and little and Louis already loves her a little.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry says brightly, and takes off before Louis can change his mind.</p>
<p>Louis rolls his eyes and makes a little nest for the kitten to sleep in before getting back to work. He only has ten minutes of peace before Mel’s back, kicking around behind the counter. “What did he bring you this time?” she asks brightly.</p>
<p>“Nothing,” Louis denies, and pointedly doesn’t look over his shoulder.</p>
<p>The kitten gives him away by meowing. Louis sighs and slumps into the counter. “She’s for the shop,” he says before Mel can say anything.</p>
<p>Mel cackles anyway. “He’s <i>wooing</i> you,” she says delightedly, scooping the kitten up. “The weird dude that hangs out in the park and plays with the street cats is <i>wooing</i> you.”</p>
<p>Louis sighs. “He’s not wooing me.”</p>
<p>“Yesterday he brought you a bunch of books he thought you might like,” Mel says. “The day before that he brought you an actual mix CD. Like, a literal mix CD, Louis, that’s pretty much the definition of wooing. He started off bringing you a tea every day you worked, what are you waiting for?” she demands, whacking him on the shoulder.</p>
<p>Louis bites back a smile, covering his mouth with the tea Harry left on the counter before making his escape. “He hasn’t actually asked me yet,” he admits.</p>
<p>Mel whacks him again. “You can fucking ask him, you idiot!” she screeches, petting the kitten’s head.</p>
<p>He could, but. “I’m waiting to see how long it takes him to work up the courage,” Louis says, taking a sip of the tea, made exactly the way he likes it.</p>
<p>“God, at this rate he’s going to give you a fucking ring before he asks you out,” Mel mutters and wanders away, taking the kitten with her.</p>
<p>Louis has a ring stashed in a box with all the other miscellaneous stuff Harry’s gifted him with. It’s a cheap plastic ring, but it’s a ring nonetheless. Louis plans to wear it every time they go out in public together once Harry finally asks him out.</p>
<p>He has confidence that the day is coming soon.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Leaving Town</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The bus is still loading passengers. Louis breathes out a sigh of relief, tumbling out of the car and nearly splitting his head open in the process. He barely even registers it, sprinting across the car park as fast as his legs will carry him. The last passengers are getting on board, and there isn’t much time left.</p>
<p>Harry’s already on the bus. He’s got a window seat, headphones on, looking down at his phone, and he looks - he looks sad. </p>
<p>Louis knows the feeling. He’s out of breath as he skids to a stop, shouts, “Harry!” with his hands cupped around his mouth and everything.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t look up. Harry doesn’t hear him. Louis shouts his name louder, banging on the bus window, getting the attention of the bus driver and all the passengers, including Harry. His eyes go wide and he rips his earbuds out, says, “Louis?”</p>
<p>Already, Louis can feel his eyes welling up. He pushes himself up onto his tiptoes, hanging onto the edge of the window, and says desperately, “I want to try.”</p>
<p>“Try?” Harry echoes, confused. He’s got his headphones dangling from one hand still, and he’s not moving.</p>
<p>The tears spill over. “I want to try, Harry,” Louis says. “I don’t care how much distance there is between us, the way I feel about you has to be enough. And if it’s not then - at least we’ll know, right? So I want to try. <i>Please</i>, let’s try.”</p>
<p>For a second, Harry doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even blink. Then he’s moving fast, dodging other passengers and the driver, getting off the bus and literally sweeping Louis off his feet, kissing him desperately.</p>
<p>“Let’s try,” he agrees. “Fuck, Louis, I love you. Let’s try.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Group text</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the fuck,” Louis says, stabbing at a few buttons in vain. This should be working but for some reason it’s not and he has no idea why.</p>
<p>The next message pops up before he can figure out what he’s doing wrong. <i>Like, I’m pretty sure I want to marry him, Ni, you don’t understand.</i></p>
<p>“Come <i>on</i>,” Louis groans, hitting a few more buttons. Nothing seems to be working.</p>
<p><i>yeh, because you want to have exclusive access to his arse</i>, comes the response. Louis’ face flushes a little, fingers slowing. He knows he shouldn’t be reading this but he can’t seem to stop himself.</p>
<p><i>Can you blame me?</i> The next text reads. <i>Pretty sure I’d never let him out of my bed if I got him in it, have you seen that arse?</i></p>
<p>Louis’ face is <i>burning</i> now, hot with blood. He’s so fucking grateful no one’s around to see this, but he can’t let this go on any longer - the more he lets it go the more it’s gonna embarrass all of them. So.</p>
<p><i>Please stop objectifying my behind behind my back</i>, Louis types. <i>If you’re gonna go on about my arse at least have the decency to do it to my face.</i></p>
<p>He tosses his phone all the way across the room before any responses can come in, rolling over to bury his face in the pillow. He’s not quite brave enough to get up to check it when his phone dings with a new message a few seconds later.</p>
<p>In a minute he will. In a minute.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>High School – Studying</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stop sexualizing me,” Louis says. He says it to the pillow he’s lying on without bothering to lift his head, so the effect gets a little lost.</p>
<p>“I’m studying,” Harry protests, but he doesn’t return his gaze to the textbook in his lap.</p>
<p>Louis snorts, rolling over onto his back and hiking a knee up so his foot is flat against the mattress. “You’re <i>supposed</i> to be studying,” he says. “Don’t pretend that you haven’t been ogling me for the past five minutes. I can feel it, you know.”</p>
<p>Well, in Harry’s defense, Louis has been lying splayed out on his bed for the past five minutes, arse perky and soft, wearing one of Harry’s hoodies. So. He can’t exactly be expected to resist that, can he?</p>
<p>“In my defense,” he starts.</p>
<p>Louis makes a loud, shrieky noise. It says something about the state of this household that no one comes running to see what’s wrong.</p>
<p>Tomlinsons, man. They’re a loud bunch.</p>
<p>“Go back to studying,” Louis orders. “If you fail this test your mum is going to ban me from your house again, and last time she wouldn’t even give me any biscuits when I left.”</p>
<p>“I don’t see <i>you</i> studying,” Harry retorts. He tries to convince his gaze to drop back down to his book, but it’s not happening.</p>
<p>Louis is too fucking pretty. Harry has always said.</p>
<p>“That’s because I’m a genius and did all my studying before you got here,” Louis says. It’s only a little bit mocking, which Harry appreciates.</p>
<p>Still. Harry groans, closing his book with a snap, abandoning it on the floor carelessly and climbing onto the bed over Louis. “I hate studying,” he says, holding his weight on his elbows.<br/>Louis only quirks an eyebrow at him. “Did you not hear my speech about your mum denying me the biscuits?” he asks.</p>
<p>Harry heard. Harry’s having a hard time caring when he’s got Louis underneath him like this, though. “I could always study in the morning,” he tries, shifting his weight onto one arm so he can use his free hand to curl around the nape of Louis’ neck.</p>
<p>“You could do that,” Louis agrees, and Harry is about to bend his head to kiss him, reward himself after a long day of studying, except Louis continues, “But then you’d fail and I wouldn’t get any biscuits and then I’d be forced to break up with you on principle.”</p>
<p>There’s a very slim chance that he would actually do that, but Harry groans again and rolls off anyway.</p>
<p>“Plus if you study I have a gift for you,” Louis adds brightly.</p>
<p>Wait a second. “You mean the - ”</p>
<p>Louis cuts him off with an elbow to the ribs. “No, you dick, I’m saving that for your birthday. It’s something else.”</p>
<p>Well, that’s disappointing. Every time Harry thinks he’s going to get it Louis tells him <i>not yet</i>. It’s downright unfair, is what it is.</p>
<p>“How’s it going in there?” Louis’ mum calls to them as she passes, laundry basket in hand.</p>
<p>“Oh, fine, Lou is just torturing me for no reason,” Harry calls back. </p>
<p>“And you’re not used to that by now?” Jay asks, voice going faint as she walks away. Harry huffs, rolling onto his side, facing away from Louis. No one in this house ever wants to support him.</p>
<p>Louis presses his face against Harry’s back. “Go home, finish your studying, and I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”</p>
<p>“Is this your way of breaking up with me?” Harry warbles, and Louis snorts again, climbing over him and pressing a firm kiss against his mouth.</p>
<p>“What do you think I’m saving for your birthday?” Louis asks. Harry groans again, moping as he goes about gathering his things. Louis keeps mocking him as he follows him down, but that’s to be expected, and he pushes himself up onto his tiptoes to give Harry a goodbye kiss once they reach the door anyway.</p>
<p>“Bye, love you, see you in the morning,” Louis chirps, pushing Harry out the door and slamming it in his face.</p>
<p>Harry sulks as he goes home to study. In the morning, he aces the test, just to spite Louis. And to get his present. Presents are always good.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Unrelated Canon Drabbles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These drabbles are unrelated in the sense that I didn't write them intending for them to flow together, but they could be looked at as being in the same universe. They are:</p>
<p>Pets<br/>Baby It's Cold Outside<br/>Backstage Shenanigans<br/>Harry's Upset<br/>Breaking And Entering<br/>Leaving In The A.M.<br/>Party Hosting<br/>Hotel Rooms<br/>Beckham<br/>Jealousy<br/>Manipulation<br/>10 Photos - Harry and Louis<br/>Domesticity</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Pets</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“C’mere, Cliff,” Harry calls, half crouched underneath the dining room table, one hand extended towards the dog, a bit of bacon caught between his fingers.</p>
<p>Louis sighs, taking another sip of his beer and returning his gaze to the telly. “He’s already spoiled rotten, you know,” he says, picking up the remote so he can turn up the volume.</p>
<p>“He’s barely even come near me since I got home,” Harry says, dropping down to his belly so he can inch his way closer. “Do you think he’s sick?”</p>
<p>Eyebrows drawing down, Louis looks back over at him. “Are you really trying to feed my dog pieces of bacon when you think he might be sick?”</p>
<p>“Our dog,” Harry corrects without missing a beat. “He’s just acting weird, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>Louis clicks the off button, sending the room into silence. “He’s upset with you because you’ve been gone for three months,” he says, getting up from the couch so he can wiggle his way underneath the table beside Harry, making a beckoning gesture at Clifford.</p>
<p>Immediately, Clifford comes, burrowing against Louis’ chest with a snuffle. Louis strokes his back, burying his face in Clifford’s fur.</p>
<p>“Is he?” Harry asks quietly, shuffling until he’s right up against Louis’ back, laying an arm across both Louis and the dog. “Or are you upset with me because I’ve been gone for so long and he’s picking up cues from his daddy?”</p>
<p>“Get out of my house,” Louis says, voice muffled by his mouthful of fur.</p>
<p>“Our house,” Harry says. “I love you and I missed you so much, baby.”</p>
<p>Louis sighs again, quieter this time, and doesn’t elbow Harry off of him. “I love you and I missed you too,” he says grudgingly. “The next time you go on tour I’m going to change all the locks by the time you get home.”</p>
<p>He feels Harry’s laughter against the back of his neck. They don’t move from under the table for a long time.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Baby It’s Cold Outside</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Baby it’s cold outside,” Harry sings, using that awful warbly voice he always uses when he’s making an active effort to sound bad.</p>
<p>“It’s 95 degrees outside,” Louis points out, wiggling a little to get his jeans up over his arse.</p>
<p>“Baby it’s bad out there,” Harry continues, voice half muffled by the pillow he’s pressing against his eyes, other arm flung out against the sheets dramatically.</p>
<p>Louis snorts, tugging the zip up. “It’s sunny and cloudless.” Searches the floor for where he tossed his shirt, frowning a little when he can’t find it.</p>
<p>“No cabs to be had out there,” Harry sings louder, ignoring Louis completely.</p>
<p>“Good thing I’ve got a car waiting for me then, innit?” Louis asks, making his way back over to the bed and slapping Harry’s bare stomach. “Are you hiding my shirt?”</p>
<p>There’s a split second of suspicious silence. “No.”</p>
<p>Louis sighs, putting a knee up onto the bed, shoving his hands under Harry’s back, trying to find it. “Harry, I have to go,” he says impatiently. Harry just lies there like dead weight, uncaring of the fact that he’s crushing Louis’ poor hands.</p>
<p>“Beautiful, what’s your hurry?” Harry continues, talking more than singing now.</p>
<p>Louis sighs again, but he can’t stop the corners of his mouth from quirking up. “You know what my hurry is. I have a fake flight to catch. And you’re totally messing up the order of the song now.”</p>
<p>“Gosh, your lips are delicious,” Harry says, shoving the pillow off his face and tucking two fingers into the waist of Louis’ jeans. “How can you do this thing to me?”</p>
<p>It’s only two o’clock. Louis supposes he <i>could</i> wait another half hour. “I hate you, you know that?” he asks conversationally as Harry’s hand goes for his zipper.</p>
<p>“Nah, baby, you love it,” Harry says, pulling Louis down for a kiss.</p>
<p>Louis lets him.</p>
<hr/>
<p><i>Backstage Shenanigans</i> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Harry!” Louis shouts, throwing a stuffed animal at him as he passes on one of his laps up and down the hallway. “Put some pants on, we’re onstage in five minutes!”</p>
<p>There’s nothing quite like watching your bandmate streak backstage at one of your own shows. Louis would know, because it’s something he’s forced to watch for the past four years.</p>
<p>“I will, I will!” Harry calls back, undeterred by Louis’ frankly impeccable aim.</p>
<p>Louis would like to say that he’s unaffected by the sight of Harry’s naked cock after all these years, but it’s a few inches too big for that. “Now, Harry!” he shouts. He doesn’t know how he got stuck with Harry wrangling duty – he got stuck with it yesterday, too, and Louis is honestly too immature to be the mature one in this band.</p>
<p>Where is Liam, anyway?</p>
<p>“Don’t worry!” Harry yells from the end of the hallway, where he’s stopped to do something Louis can’t make out in this distance.</p>
<p>“Harry!” Louis says. He’s starting to get annoyed now. He didn’t ask for this responsibility, and he definitely doesn’t want it.</p>
<p>“Don’t <i>rush me</i>, Lewis!” Harry says, and that’s it. That’s the last straw.</p>
<p>“Harry Styles, if you don’t get your clothes on in the next thirty seconds I’ll just tell your mum on you!”</p>
<p>Harry laughs, deep and loud. “That’d be a much more effective threat if she wasn’t used to my nudity, you know,” he points out.</p>
<p>Goddammit.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Harry’s Upset</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry’s sulking. There’s really no other word for it, the way he’s slamming his way around the dressing room, knocking things over by accident and then picking them up with aggravated sighs. If it wasn’t for the whole picking up after himself bit, Louis might be inclined to call it hulking out. But he is, so there goes that whole phrase.</p>
<p>“You know, if you sat down for a few minutes and did some of your yoga breathing you’d probably be able to calm down,” Louis tells him helpfully. The other boys have long since made themselves scarce – not because Harry’s scary when he’s angry or anything, but because the noise he’s making is really fucking irritating. The only reason that Louis has stuck around is because he has an obligation to or something. That’s what being in a relationship will get you, he supposes.</p>
<p>Harry shoots him a look over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring out. Louis has already tried bribing him out of his bad mood with sex, and when that hadn’t worked he’d found himself out of ideas.</p>
<p>What. Harry’s easy, alright? Bribing him with sex always works. Except this time, apparently.</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” Harry says shortly, and that’s how Louis knows he’s really upset. Anytime Harry doesn’t take forever and a day to say something, he’s actually upset.</p>
<p>“You’re breaking my fucking heart here, babe,” Louis tells him, setting his phone on a table and lying down, patting the empty space beside him. “First you won’t dick me down and now you won’t even cuddle with me? I’m starting to feel kind of abandoned.”</p>
<p>Harry rolls his eyes, but there’s an unwilling grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Way to reduce our entire relationship to just sex and physical intimacy.”</p>
<p>He comes when Louis keeps patting the cushion insistently, though, stripping his shirt off over his head as he goes.</p>
<p>“Oh, darling, if you think I’m in this relationship for anything other than your massive cock you’re in for a truly rude awakening,” Louis says. He’s got an eye roll of his own that he has to push back when Harry goes in for his pants next. He’s so predictable, this kid. Get Louis lying down on a flat surface and Harry starts stripping, even when it doesn’t actually lead to sex. He has this thing about naked cuddling being so much better than the clothed kind. Give him five minutes and he’ll have Louis’ pants off too, and half the time Louis doesn’t even know how he does it.</p>
<p>“I do have a massive cock,” Harry agrees happily, pushing his entire face against Louis’ throat, smelling him like some sort of big weirdo.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t object to any of it. Harry might be a massive weirdo, but he is Louis’ massive weirdo, and there’s no changing that.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Breaking And Entering</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The door’s locked,” Harry says, jiggling the doorknob as though that’s going to make some sort of difference. Or maybe he’s just doing it to prove that it really is locked, Louis doesn’t know. It doesn’t really matter.</p>
<p>“Move aside,” he says, trying to squeeze his way between Harry and the door. He stole a bobby pin from Lou earlier and he’s pretty sure it’s going to work.</p>
<p>“This is where you impress me, right?” Harry asks, tone dry, like he doesn’t believe that Louis is capable of picking this lock and getting them behind this door.</p>
<p>Louis nearly breaks the pin in half by jamming it into the key hole too hard. It doesn’t snap, though, and that’s all that really matters. “Darling, I haven’t needed to impress you in years. At this point all I need to do is look at you and say <i>take off your shirt</i> for you to give it up.”</p>
<p>Harry’s hovering directly behind him, so close that Louis can feel the warmth of his breath against the back of his head. “Just because you don’t have to impress me doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be trying,” he points out.</p>
<p>The pin isn’t doing anything at this angle. Louis draws it out about halfway and tries again. “Well, considering that all I need to do to impress you is take off my own shirt, I think we’re good on that front.”</p>
<p>The lock gives way, knob turning under his hand. He makes a triumphant noise, not too loud so they won’t draw any excess attention, and drags Harry into the room by the hand.</p>
<p>“Are you impressed yet?” he asks, turning around and fixing Harry with something that’s not quite a glare.</p>
<p>Harry smiles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocking back on his heels. “Very impressed, baby.”</p>
<p>It’s the right answer. Louis considers him for a second longer before nodding decisively. “Good. Now take off your shirt.”</p>
<p>They did break into this locked room to have sex, after all. Louis isn’t going to be the one to delay that any further.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Leaving In The A.M.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck,” Louis chants. Harry watches as he nearly trips over himself trying to tug his jeans up over his calves from his spot on the bed, still tucked up underneath the covers.</p>
<p>“You’re going to miss your flight,” Harry says. His voice is still sleep rough from disuse, and he’d like nothing more than to go back to sleep. It’s unfortunate that Louis is making too much noise for him to be able to do that.</p>
<p>Louis shoots him a dirty look. Lesser men have crumbled at the sight of that glare. Harry isn’t phased. “Yes, darling, I’m well fucking aware of that, why the fuck do you think I’m losing my fucking mind, here?”</p>
<p>He succeeds getting his jeans on, zipping them with a soft, triumphant noise before looking around the room for his shirt.</p>
<p>“No, I mean you’re going to miss your flight anyway, so you might as well come back to bed for a while,” Harry explains. Louis shoots him another look over his shoulder, wryly amused.</p>
<p>“As much as I would like to do that, I have things to do today that don’t involve getting fucked by you.”</p>
<p>Harry hadn’t actually been talking about sex, but now that Louis says it, it does sound like a good idea. “We could do that,” he says agreeably, “or you could just come back to bed and nap for a while. Those bags under your eyes are saying that you need at least ten hours worth of REM time.”</p>
<p>Louis snorts, locating his shirt and yanking it on over his head. “I’ve no fucking idea why people think you’re the nice one,” he says, muffled by the fabric. “You’re a cheeky bastard.”</p>
<p>“It’s because I look unassuming,” Harry says sagely, rolling over onto his back and tucking an arm under his head, staring up at the ceiling.</p>
<p>“You look like – ” There’s a slam, and then, “Ah, fuck, shit, goddamn it – ”</p>
<p>Harry cranes his head just in time to see Louis hopping around on one foot, still swearing, as he reaches down to rub at his toes. “That’s a sign that you should have stayed in bed in the first place.” He lets his head flop back down against the pillow, rubbing at his bare fingers absently. Louis made him take off all his rings before he’d let Harry finger him, and now his hands feel weird.</p>
<p>The bed dips at one side for a second before Louis’ face comes into view, hovering a foot above Harry’s. “Really?” he asks. “You’re not even going to ask if I’m okay? You’re a terrible fucking person.”</p>
<p>Harry makes a face, unburying his other arm from the duvet and tugging pointedly at the hem of Louis’ shirt. “I make a point of trying not to talk to you while you’re wearing clothes.”</p>
<p>“Cut the shit,” Louis says, flicking Harry’s bare chest. “This is literally a pit stop for both of us, you don’t get to act like I’m ghosting you when you knew that going in.”</p>
<p>“Wow,” Harry says, grabbing Louis’ hand before he can do it again and trapping it against his chest, “I’m so fucking sorry for acting like you’re the love of my life or something.”</p>
<p>Louis rolls his eyes, unimpressed. Harry knows that he’s actually unimpressed from the way he isn’t responding to Harry’s subtle attempts to get him into his lap. “I’m not fucking falling for that again,” he says, digging his nails into Harry’s skin. It’d be a more effective deterrent if he wasn’t constantly biting them, making short and only a little ragged. “You’re not gonna shame me for not blowing off all of my responsibilities.”</p>
<p>“Go on, then,” Harry says, letting his hand fall back onto the bed, leaving Louis’ free to flick or pinch him as he pleases. “Leave me all alone here in this big, cold bed.”</p>
<p>He’s not too worried about Louis actually doing that. He’s definitely missed his flight by now, and if that wasn’t his intention in the first place he would have actually rushed out the door instead of stalling like this.</p>
<p>“Why, so you can get yourself off all by yourself like a sullen teenager?” Louis asks, raising his eyebrows. He hasn’t flicked Harry’s chest again, which means Harry can probably coax him into going another round. He just likes to put up a bit of a fight sometimes. Probably got a later flight booked than the time he originally said. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s done that.</p>
<p>“I have needs, baby,” Harry says, giving into temptation and getting both of his hands on Louis’ sides, pushing them up underneath his shirt. “They don’t disappear just because you do.”</p>
<p>Louis sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, watching Harry with sweet, careful eyes. It’s all too easy to remember what he looks like without clothes when he’s wearing that face. “You just want to fuck me again,” he says eventually, curling his fingers into his fist, rubbing his knuckles along Harry’s chest.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Harry agrees, “but I also want to go to sleep and wake up next to you in the morning. Also, you’ve definitely missed your flight by now.”</p>
<p>Louis’ slide into his lap is hindered by the duvet still pulled up to Harry’s waist, but he makes it work regardless. “Fuck my flight.”</p>
<p>Harry laughs, trying his best to slide Louis’ shirt up over his head without Louis doing anything to help. “Fuck your flight,” he says. “Also, I bet you can’t go twenty-four hours without cussing, you said fuck at least twenty times in the last ten minutes.”</p>
<p>Louis narrows his eyes at him, digging his fingers into Harry’s chest again. “Fuck you you stupid fucking wanker,” he says with no heat in his voice, “I’ll take that bet.”</p>
<p>Harry grins up at him before he rolls them over, already reaching for the bottle of lube still on the nightstand. Louis doesn’t even make it two minutes before he loses.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Party Hosting</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Darling,” Louis’ voice cuts into Harry’s conversation impatiently, “Can I have a word, please?”</p>
<p>Harry’s back prickles. His arm stops halfway in bringing his cup up to his mouth. He shoots Alexa a small, apologetic smile over the rim of the cup and excuses himself, following Louis down the hall to the kitchen. </p>
<p>The noise is considerably less here, but it’s not filtered out entirely, the music echoing off the cupboards. It is empty, though, aside from the food and drink laid out on the countertops.</p>
<p>“Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?” Harry wonders out loud. This party hadn’t even been his idea, so if Louis wants to complain about something he better have thought it through.</p>
<p>“There’s a spill on the stairs,” Louis tells him, folding his arms across his chest and staring at Harry as though he thinks Harry is the one to have done it. Also like he thinks Harry did it on purpose.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry says slowly, crossing over the fridge and pulling out a fresh bottle of wine. He might as well start another one considering that it seems like Louis has dragged him in here for nothing. “Did you clean it up?”</p>
<p>Louis huffs, wedging himself between Harry and the refrigerator, yanking the bottle out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf. “Harold,” he says, enunciating so the word is clear and crisp, and oh, okay, Harry’s cock is pretty much hard wired to respond when Louis says that word exactly like that, impatient and irritated and asking for something that has nothing to do with the actual words coming out of his mouth, “Can you please help me clean up the spill.”</p>
<p>It’s not even remotely close to being a question. It should be, considering what Louis is actually asking for, but it’s not. </p>
<p>“Sweetheart,” Harry says, closing his hands around Louis’ hips instead, pulling him in tight, “I love you and I think you’re wonderful and gorgeous and an absolute <i>specimen</i> of a human being, but if you think you’re even remotely capable of keeping quiet while I get you off you really don’t know yourself.”</p>
<p>Louis scrunches up his face, shoving weakly at Harry’s chest. “Well excuse me for falling in love with you and wanting a mere token of your affection,” he says, balling his hands up into fists and leaving them pressed against Harry’s chest like that.</p>
<p>A mere token, huh. Harry can do that. He adjusts his hands, laying one in the middle of Louis’ back, and dips him so low Louis’ hair brushes the floor. Louis’ loud, completely over-dramatic shriek gets mostly swallowed up by the way Harry kisses him, and it’s not what Louis was asking for, but Harry thinks it’ll suffice.</p>
<p>For now, at least.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Hotel Rooms</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Staying in hotel rooms gets old. Harry doesn’t get homesick the way some of the other lads do, but he appreciates being able to sleep in his own bed. That being said, the telly in hotels is always pretty good, so they have that going for them.</p>
<p>Harry’s in bed now, sitting propped up against the headboard and flicking through channels. It’s just after midnight, and Harry’s tired but he isn’t quite ready to go to sleep yet.</p>
<p>The door clicks open quietly. Harry glances over at it, watching Louis wander in, feet bare and hair messy, unstyled, still a little wet from his shower. He’s wearing one of Harry’s shirts, one that’s too big on Harry, so it’s entirely too big on him, slipping down one shoulder and exposing his collarbone. Paired with some threadbare sweats, he looks sweet and cozy, as though he hasn’t just come from raiding the vending machine for all its Doritos and then emptying the contents into Liam’s gym bag.</p>
<p>Needless to say, Harry is going to pretend like he had no knowledge of this when Liam figures it out.</p>
<p>Louis shuts the door behind himself, locking it, before making his way over to the bed and clambering onto it, all knees. There’s plenty of space on the bed - it’s been a long time since they’ve all had to cram into two rooms with double beds - but Louis still wiggles his way into Harry’s lap anyway, squirming under the covers and settling with his back pressed against Harry’s chest.</p>
<p>Harry’s not even remotely surprised. Louis has a big personality, extroverted and loud, and that can be a little misleading sometimes, convincing everyone that he’s always that person, but Harry knows better. Harry knows exactly how Louis is, and he stopped being surprised by Louis’ penchant for curling himself up small a long time ago.</p>
<p>“Li’s gonna be so pissed at you,” Harry says, letting Louis tug the remote out of his hand.</p>
<p>“Well, if he hadn’t gone and hidden his toothpaste we wouldn’t even be having this conversation,” Louis retorts, settling on some old black and white film with subtitles before squirming again, twisting so he’s facing Harry now. “You haven’t given me my goodnight kiss yet.”</p>
<p>He slides his hand down Harry’s arm until he can link their fingers together, and Harry takes that as an invitation, curling the fingers of his other hand around Louis’ wrist, encircling it easily.</p>
<p>Louis breathes out, half shuddering, and yeah, Harry <i>knows</i> this boy. Knows exactly what he likes, and he likes that Harry makes him feel small. “Here, you mean?” Harry asks, bending his head forward to press a kiss against the hollow of Louis’ throat.</p>
<p>“That’s exactly what I mean,” Louis agrees breathlessly, tipping his head back to give Harry more room to work with. His skin is warm under Harry’s fingers, supple.</p>
<p>Harry could move, could flip their positions and get Louis underneath him, and he might do that in a few minutes, but for now he just keeps Louis’ wrist closed in his grip and works on leaving a mark on Louis’ throat. They have the entire night ahead of them, and Harry has plenty of ideas about how to make it last.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Beckham</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t talk to me,” Louis says tightly, refusing to so much as look in Harry’s general direction. He knows it’s irrational, knows that it’s not Harry’s fault, but <i>someone</i> is to blame for this and it sure as hell ain’t Louis.</p>
<p>“Lou,” Harry sighs, but Louis can hear the laughter in his voice, and he doesn’t appreciate it. This is a very serious matter. Louis is <i>upset</i>.</p>
<p>“Shut up,” he orders, shoving his hand into Harry’s face, trying to pinch his lips together. </p>
<p>Harry pinches him back, but on his side, the spot where he fucking <i>knows</i> Louis is ticklish. Louis squeaks a little, letting go, which turns out to be a rookie mistake. Harry grabs both of his wrists and pins them together, effectively trapping him.</p>
<p>“<i>I’m</i> the one who’s a fan of him,” Louis says sulkily. It’s unfair and he knows it - it’s not like Harry <i>isn’t</i> a fan, but Louis is the one who had a sexual awakening to Beckham, so if anyone deserves to be followed by him it’s Louis. Not Harry.</p>
<p>“Alright, baby,” Harry says easily, transferring Louis’ wrists to one hand and petting his side with the other. “Want me to make you a cuppa, make you feel better?”</p>
<p>No, Louis doesn’t want <i>tea</i>. He wants David Beckham to follow him back. He scowls, twisting his wrists half-heartedly in Harry’s grip.</p>
<p>“Or I could always take you to the bed and spank you for being such a little brat,” Harry offers brightly.</p>
<p>Louis scowls harder. Manages to kick Harry in the kneecap. “Fuck you, you bloody pretentious hipster, think you know what’s best for everyone but you don’t know jack shit, always think you’re so - ”</p>
<p>“Alright then!” Harry says, still bright, lifting Louis up as though he weighs nothing. “Spanking it is.”</p>
<p>He carries Louis over to the bed easily. Louis hides a smile into his shoulder the entire way. </p>
<p>Harry always knows what Louis needs when he’s being stroppy.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Jealousy</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The thing about Zayn and Louis is that they have a different kind of relationship than everyone else. With Liam, Louis is a menace - they run around together messing with whoever happens to get in their way. They’re like brothers, actually, riling each other up and messing about, fighting occasionally.</p>
<p>With Niall, Louis is just as playful but a little softer, maybe, a little less harsh than he is with Liam but still so fun and entertaining. He’s always a handful no matter who he’s with, and he trusts the boys implicitly, all of them.</p>
<p>Zayn’s - different. When Louis hangs out with Zayn they tend to disappear, and it’s only to a secluded place somewhere, the back of the bus or a hotel room, just the two of them hanging out, and Harry knows he shouldn’t be jealous but he can’t stop himself. There’s no denying the closeness Louis has with Zayn, and there’s nothing there, no attraction or romantic feelings, but sometimes jealousy surges through Harry’s chest anyway, the pit of his stomach. He tries to control it, he really does, but sometimes what he needs is this.</p>
<p>Louis’ leg slung over his, his head pillowed on Harry’s chest, half asleep and still. Sometimes, this is all Harry needs. Just five minutes alone with Louis.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Manipulation</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The thing is, Harry knows when Louis is doing it. Now, at least. Used to be days where he’d trip over himself to do whatever Louis asked of him, unaware of the fact that he was doing it because of the way Louis asked him. But he knows now, can identify when Louis is using big, fluttery eyes and a pouty mouth to get Harry to do something for him, twisting his fingers together and making himself smaller than he really is. So theoretically, knowing should also mean that Harry is able to refuse him, say no.</p>
<p>Yeah, that’s not really the case.</p>
<p>Like now, for example. Half past three in the morning and Louis is standing in front of him, fingers tangled in the hem of Harry’s shirt looking sleepy and grumpy and whining about how he wants an Oreo McFlurry and won’t be able to sleep until he’s satisfied his craving.</p>
<p>Harry had gotten up to pee and he’d come out of the loo to Louis standing in the middle of the room like a ghost. He would love to say that he has no idea how Louis keeps getting into Harry’s hotel rooms no matter what country they’re in, but that would be a lie. All Louis ever does is insist <i>Harry doesn’t mind!</i> to whatever member of their security team is assigned the hallway that night. And it’s easier for them if they just let him in.</p>
<p>It’s not easier for Harry, but no one seems to take that into consideration.</p>
<p>“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Harry tries, untangling Louis’ fingers from his shirt gently and holding them in his own so he doesn’t get any other ideas. Like poking at Harry’s belly until he gets his way. It might not seem like a huge grievance but it’s really fucking annoying.</p>
<p>Louis gives him an unimpressed look. “Does it look like it can wait until tomorrow?”</p>
<p>Actually, yes. It does look like it could wait until tomorrow, and even if it couldn’t he doesn’t actually need Harry’s help to convince Alberto to walk down the street with him to get a McFlurry. Or to send someone to get him one. He didn’t need to wake Harry up for this, is what Harry is trying to say.</p>
<p>Within his own head, of course. He knows better than to say any of that out loud. The poking would probably last all day if he did.</p>
<p>Out loud, he says, “Why don’t you come to bed? I’ll cuddle you the way you like and order you pancakes in the morning.”</p>
<p>It’s worth a shot. Louis will insist, loudly and frequently, that he is not small, and that he hates being coddled, but the second they’re alone he drops the pretense and demands Harry rub his back or be his pillow or fetch him a blanket and then curl up with him.</p>
<p>It’s all heading one very specific place. There’s Reasons it hasn’t gotten there yet, plentiful and logical, and Harry’s mostly okay with that.</p>
<p>Mostly.</p>
<p>Louis stomps on Harry’s foot. “I want an Oreo McFlurry <i>and</i> for you to cuddle me the way I like and order me pancakes in the morning.”</p>
<p>Hissing, Harry jerks his foot out from underneath Louis’, resisting the urge to bend over and rub the sting out of his toes. Sometimes he wonders why he lets this tiny little brat push him around like this.</p>
<p>“Please, Harry,” Louis adds, reaching up and winding his arms around Harry’s neck, hugging him tight, and Harry doesn’t have to wonder anymore.</p>
<p>He sighs and hugs Louis back, already trying to remember where he left his shoes. And his jacket. And a jumper for Louis, because he’s only wearing a thin t-shirt and Harry doesn’t want to be whined at until he gives Louis his jacket and then be cold the entire way back.</p>
<p>All told, it’s almost four in the morning by the time they finally leave the hotel, and Harry is still tired and grumpy but Louis is sitting beside him in the car, smiling and looking down at his phone, and Harry knows that he’s going to spend the rest of his life being pushed around by this tiny little brat who knows exactly how to get Harry to do things for him.</p>
<p>Eventually, that is. Eventually.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>10 Photos – Harry’s Phone</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>10. About a million shots of Louis’ arse in various stages of undress. The only reason it’s number ten is because they’re focused on Louis’ bum so there’s plausible deniability - no face means no proof, right?</p>
<p>9. Also about a million shots of Louis sleeping, face lax and trusting. In his defense, Harry has almost an equal amount of photos of the other lads sleeping, so it’s not <i>that</i> incriminating. It’d be more incriminating if he didn’t have them.</p>
<p>8. A photo of Louis’ feet kicked up into Harry’s lap. It’s casual but unmistakably Louis, feet bare but ankle tattoo on display, one of Harry’s hands resting just above it. It’s intimate and telling but not overtly so - there’s still that sliver of plausible deniability. Not that it’s not Louis, but that it’s not something friends would do.</p>
<p>7. Pictures of them holding hands. In terms of incriminating photos it’s pretty out there, but again with the whole weirdly close friends thing. They could totally sell that if they had to. Totally.</p>
<p>6. A blurry, mostly unrecognizable picture of Louis showering. Harry took it through the glass while Louis was flipping him off, and he’s pretty sure that outside of people who know them really well no one would actually be able to tell it’s Louis.</p>
<p>5. At least one shot of Louis lounging in clothes that definitely belong to Harry.</p>
<p>4. Much like the pictures of Louis’ bum, pictures of Louis in various stages of undress, except full body this time. Definitely incriminating.</p>
<p>3. There’s this one shot Harry always goes back to look at, one of them pressed up close together. Harry’s ostentatiously ‘helping’ Louis with the dishes, tight against his back, all of their hands submerged in soapy water, and they’re both laughing, half of Harry’s face pressed into the side of Louis’ head. It’s taken from the side and Harry isn’t even sure who took it, but it’s undeniably a couple’s photo, intimate and uncaring of who sees it.</p>
<p>2. Tons of pictures of them kissing. Some of them Harry’s taken himself, so they’re shaky, but some other people have taken of them, ranging from tender and sweet to dirty and borderline tongue fucking.</p>
<p>1. There’s more than a few pictures of them during sex, but there’s this one of Louis lounging in the middle of their bed, fingers curled around his hard, dripping cock, the other hand stretched out towards the camera, beckoning him closer.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>10 Photos – Louis’ Phone</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>10. Pictures of Harry laughing. Head tipped back, laughing up towards the sky, chin tipped down, hair covering most of his face, pictures of him with his shoulders shaking, happy and obnoxious with it.</p>
<p>9. A ton of pictures of Harry’s hands. Just his hands, nothing else. Maybe his wrists in some, close ups of his fingers, his rings. Louis likes to look at them when they’re apart, pretend Harry’s with him holding his hand. If he tries hard enough he can almost feel it.</p>
<p>8. Pictures of Harry and Liam and Niall and Zayn all together, different combinations of two or three or all of them. Doing nothing, doing something, it doesn’t matter. Louis likes taking pictures of his boys, his family, to remember later. Has them printed out and framed, sometimes, hangs them in their house and touches them absently as he passes them.</p>
<p>7. There’s a few pictures of Harry’s back. Some of them clothed, others not. They’re for scientific purposes, obviously. Not for wanking purposes. Anyone who accuses Louis of that would be completely wrong.</p>
<p>6. Louis would never admit to this except under threat of extreme tickling, but he’s got more than his fair share of pictures of Harry’s left arm. The tattoos. It’s - yeah. No explanation needed.</p>
<p>5. There’s this one particular photo Louis took of Harry in their garden, sitting in a lounging chair, feet kicked up and guitar on his lap that he goes back to sometimes, looks at with his breath caught in his throat for no real reason.</p>
<p>4. Kissing pictures. Because they kiss a lot and they both like to try to take pictures of it when the other isn’t paying attention. It’s kind of a competition and Louis is pretty sure he’s winning.</p>
<p>3. A picture of them on the couch, shot from Louis’ angle, his feet up in Harry’s lap and Harry’s hand wrapped absently around his ankle. It would be lower on the list if Harry wasn’t completely naked in it.</p>
<p>2. There’s pictures of Harry with Louis’ siblings. A lot of them. They’re obviously not intimate like some of the other pictures Louis’ got on his phone, but he thinks they’re probably the most telling anyway. They’re family, all of them, and they treat Harry like family.</p>
<p>1. Lots of pictures of Harry’s cock. Because it’s a cock Louis is quite fond of.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Domesticity</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re doing it wrong,” Louis says, pushing himself up onto his toes so he can see over Harry’s shoulder, leaning against his back to keep his balance.</p>
<p>“Your <i>face</i> is wrong,” Harry retorts, slapping Louis’ hands away as he tries to add in the milk before Harry can finish pouring the tea.</p>
<p>“I’m just saying, it’s gonna taste like shite,” Louis says, looping his arms around Harry’s waist and refusing to let go even when Harry half-heartedly wiggles, trying to shake him loose.</p>
<p>Harry sighs and sets the teapot down gently, away from the edge of the counter. Louis knows it’s because he’s kind of afraid Louis is going to knock it off with his hands but that only pleases him. Louis hates this teapot anyway. It deserves to die a slow horrible death.</p>
<p>Just because Louis accidentally broke the last one because he didn’t see it doesn’t mean that Harry had to go out and buy the most garishly pink one he could find, that’s all Louis is saying. It’s blinding in it ugliness.</p>
<p>“It’s not going to taste like shit,” Harry says, picking up both cups and turning around carefully, setting one foot in front of the other as he slowly makes his way to the living room, taking his time so Louis doesn’t fall and trip them both because he can’t see.</p>
<p>“Yes it is,” Louis maintains, letting go of Harry’s waist as soon as they’re close enough to the couch for him to dive onto it, claiming the best spot before Harry can.</p>
<p>Harry frowns at him and sets the cups down onto the table before flopping down full force onto the couch, landing half on top of Louis’ legs. “Ow, what the fuck, I hate you,” Louis complains, pushing at Harry’s face.</p>
<p>“Not as much as I hate you,” Harry answers cheerfully, rolling onto his side and settling with his head in Louis’ lap, facing the tv. He reaches one gigantic arm out and snags the remote off the table, flicking the telly on, and starts channel surfing.</p>
<p>He settles on a re-run of <i>The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air</i> and they watch in silence for a couple minutes, until the smell of the tea wafts into Louis’ nose, too enticing not to be drinking. “Harry,” Louis says, tapping at the top of his head.</p>
<p>“Mm,” Harry says, attention still fixed on the telly.</p>
<p>“Can I have me tea?” Louis asks politely, then flicks Harry’s ear. He can feel Harry’s scowl even as he reaches for the tea, passing it to Louis over his shoulder.</p>
<p>The tea is half gone by the time Harry rolls onto his back and says, “Seems like you like it well enough.”</p>
<p>Louis wrinkles his nose and keeps his gaze fixed on the tv. “It’s drinkable.”</p>
<p>“You love it,” Harry insists. “You love my tea more than you love your tea. Admit it.”</p>
<p>“I hate your tea and I want to divorce you,” Louis says, resting his mostly empty cup on Harry’s forehead.</p>
<p>Harry rolls his eyes and wraps his fingers around Louis’ wrist but doesn’t pull it away. “I’ll have the papers drawn up. I’m taking the dog.”</p>
<p>“I want the Range Rover then,” Louis demands, pinching at Harry’s side with his free hand. “Also I get full custody of the boys. You can see them on the last Sunday of every month.”</p>
<p>“That’s just not cool,” Harry says, moving Louis’ hand and the cup with it, resting it on his belly instead. “I’m gonna take you to court for that.”</p>
<p>“Fine, I’ll see you there,” Louis says huffily, prying his hand out of Harry’s grip and letting the cup clatter down onto the table.</p>
<p>Harry takes his hand again as soon as Louis pulls it back, tangling their fingers together and closing his eyes, half a smile on his face.</p>
<p>Louis sits still for about two more minutes before he can’t control his body anymore and he has to stick a finger up Harry’s nose. “I’m bored,” he complains.</p>
<p>Harry slaps his hand away and shoves himself up, tackling Louis back into the couch. “I’m gonna fucking take you to court for all you’re worth,” he threatens.</p>
<p>Louis cackles for so long Harry has to kiss him quiet again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Unrelated Canon Porn Drabbles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These drabbles are unrelated as they weren't written together and may have inconsistencies between them. They are: Not-angry Angry Sex, Service Top Harry, First Time, Shower Sex</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Injuries During Sex<br/>Light D/s</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Not-Angry Angry Sex</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After the show, they’re all sweaty and hyped up, adrenaline still coursing through their veins. It’s like a high that doesn’t fade once the show is over, needs to be drained in some other way.</p>
<p>They have to sprint through the hallways backstage to make it to the van, trying to beat the crowd out of the venue so they don’t get stuck. Ahead of him, Liam is struggling to get out of one shirt and into another as he runs, Niall is skipping along behind him, and Louis is cackling at something as he leads the way.</p>
<p>His arse bounces as he runs. Just a little, just enough to draw attention to it, and Harry’s always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak in him that bleeds over into how he performs, so he’s already about half-hard in his jeans. Watching Louis’ arse doesn’t help.</p>
<p>They make it to the van quickly enough, piling in on top of each other, and like always there’s not much room. Harry claims a spot for himself, all elbows and knees as he wrestles Niall out of the way for it, and gets his arse on the floor before anyone else can knock him out of the way.</p>
<p>Louis squirms his way into Harry’s lap, back to his chest, and starts a conversation about the price of tea in China. Literally, that’s not an exaggeration. He’s been obsessed with it lately.</p>
<p>He hasn’t changed yet, so his clothes are still damp with sweat. So are Harry’s, but the difference is that Harry isn’t wearing a vest that’s roughly three times too big for him, exposing his armpits when he stretches. More than that, though, the shirt is exposing his nipples. His dusty pink nipples, perfectly suckable, biteable, gorgeous little nipples.</p>
<p>Harry wants to bite them. Harry wants to bite Louis all over, actually, until he’s a gaspy, whimpery mess, pliant and willing to let Harry do whatever he wants. There’s no way Louis doesn’t know that, too - Harry’s jeans might be tight but there’s no hiding that his cock has gone from half hard to full mast from having Louis in his lap like this. It’s pressing up against the fly of his jeans and, subsequently, Louis’ arse, begging for freedom.</p>
<p>Louis just wiggles. More than necessary, more than he would if he couldn’t feel it. He’s teasing, a bloody gorgeous little flirt, and Harry’s going to take him apart piece by fucking piece the second they’re alone.</p>
<p>The ride back to the hotel doesn’t take too long. They’re smushed together in the back, so they’re the last ones to get out. Before they do, Louis twists around a bit, patting Harry’s cheek. “You’re a little rowdy, babe,” he murmurs, wiggling pointedly.</p>
<p>Harry squeezes Louis’ hips. “Yeah,” he agrees, lifting his hips a bit.</p>
<p>Louis frowns faux-sympathetically. “That’s too bad,” he says before scrambling off Harry’s lap and out the door.</p>
<p>All Harry can do is stare. He wants to be surprised, but the fact of the matter is that he’s not.</p>
<p>He’s really fucking not.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It takes an hour and a half to corral Louis into a mostly secluded corner. He’s been ducking Harry the entire time, only breaking his streak long enough to steal intense kisses and grope him inappropriately. In short, he’s been a complete and utter <i>tease</i>. Harry’s been hard the entire time, and it’s getting more impossible to hide by the minute.</p>
<p>“You’re a fucking brat,” Harry says finally, pinning Louis up against a wall and holding him there as he tries to squirm away.</p>
<p>Louis’ grin is mischievous and sly. “Well, there is a reason you like me, you know,” he points out, still twitching like he’s trying to find a way out.</p>
<p>Harry pins him harder. “Put up or shut up, baby,” he says, pinching Louis’ left nipple lightning fast through his shirt.</p>
<p>For a second, all Louis does is watch him through heavy lidded eyes, blinking slowly, carefully as he weighs his options. In the meantime, Harry doesn’t do anything to lessen the press of his cock against Louis’ belly. Either Louis is going to break or Harry is going to go back to the hotel room solo and come all over Louis’ pillow in revenge. Those are the only two options he can see.</p>
<p>Alright, maybe not all over it. At least a little, though.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Louis agrees. Finally fucking agrees, and Harry doesn’t wait for him to change his mind or to decide there’s something he needs to do first, grabbing his hand and yanking him out of the room before he can say anything else.</p>
<p>The trip back to the room goes by in a blur. There’s probably hallways and a lift involved but Harry doesn’t actually remember them, doesn’t remember much of anything until he’s got Louis pinned up against another wall, inside their room this time.</p>
<p>“Get naked,” he demands between kisses, half trying to bite Louis’ mouth off and half trying to get his tongue into it because he can’t decide which one he wants more.</p>
<p>“Yeah, Harry, fuck,” Louis agrees, and then it’s a mad dash as they try to strip each other and themselves at the same time, hands clashing, limbs knocking together.</p>
<p>Somehow they manage it, and then they’re both standing naked in the middle of the room staring at each other.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Harry says on an exhale, moving forward and pushing Louis until he falls onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, manhandling him into a better position. Joins him just as quick, fumbling around until he’s got both their cocks gripped in one hand. </p>
<p>Louis arches up into him, fisting a hand into Harry’s hair. “Thought that was the point,” he says, already gone breathless, and Harry would love for that to be the point. That’s one of his favourite points, in fact, but this time he’s just not going to make it that long.</p>
<p>“Teasing me all fucking day,” Harry says, stroking them both hard, falling into a quick and easy rhythm from years of practice. He doesn’t even have to think about it anymore. “Knew you were doing it, too, you brat, but you take enjoyment out of making me hard - ”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Louis agrees, going lax in the sheets, trusting Harry to make him feel good, to make them both feel good. “Like it when you’re hard for me.”</p>
<p>Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he - if Harry’s got a bit of an exhibitionist streak so does Louis. That’s the way it works.</p>
<p>“All pretty and manipulative and evil,” Harry grits out, sweat beading on his forehead, threatening to slip down his temple.</p>
<p>“You had it coming,” Louis says, and it doesn’t even make any fucking sense, it really doesn’t. Harry’s going to come anyway, all over Louis.</p>
<p>It’s what he deserves.</p>
<p>“I’ll show you coming,” Harry gasps out, and does, shooting strings of it all up Louis’ chest, his belly, even on his face.</p>
<p>Ha. Take that. Literally.</p>
<p>“Yeah, big boy,” Louis murmurs, coming quiet and easy in Harry’s hand himself, so fucking sweet and good underneath him.</p>
<p>Fuck. Angry sex never really works between them.</p>
<p>“You’re still evil,” Harry says eventually, still splayed out over Louis’ chest. All Louis does is laugh.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Service Top Harry</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It starts off as Harry being unsure - they’re both young still, and inexperienced, and Harry’s terrified - <i>terrified</i> - of hurting Louis. He’s not trying to brag or anything, but he knows exactly how big his cock is, and there’s no way that it can fit without at least a little bit of pain.</p>
<p>Louis talks him through it with a little bit of a waver in his voice, and it takes Harry much longer than it should’ve to realize that it’s not because he’s scared - it’s because he’s so turned on that he can barely keep it together.</p>
<p>So much longer as in that’s how they have sex the first ten times, with Louis talking his way through it, at least until he can’t anymore, until he’s falling apart for real, putty in Harry’s hands. Encouraging little comments - <i>right there, another finger, yeah, like that</i> - that don’t stop.</p>
<p>By the time Harry realizes that it’s completely unnecessary he’s more than willing to admit that he likes it, that Louis tries to be the one in control even though he’s the one getting his arse pounded. That he’d do anything to make sure that Louis comes, anything to get Louis to come, and if that happens to coincide with doing what Louis tells him, well.</p>
<p>Louis has some good ideas, sometimes.</p>
<p>But make no mistake - Harry can take him apart with his arms tied behind his back and only his mouth, make him shiver and cry and beg, and he does, a lot of the time, but there’s something to be said for the look on Louis’ face when Harry fucks him just like he tells him to.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>First Time</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the fuck is this,” Louis demands, outraged, poking at it again. This is both unfair and ridiculous and Louis didn’t sign up for it.</p>
<p>Harry yelps and grabs Louis’ hand, forcing him to stop the poking. “What do you mean, Lou? It’s not like you’ve never seen it before.” </p>
<p>Goddammit, he sounds hurt, forlorn. As though Louis has actually hurt his feelings. Great. Now Louis feels bad. And he shouldn’t be the one feeling bad, is the thing - <i>Harry</i> should be the one feeling bad, hiding this hugely important thing from Louis.</p>
<p>“There’s no way this is going inside of me,” he announces. “Fuck, Harry, you’d <i>break me</i> if you tried putting it in. That’s not happening.”</p>
<p>Nope. No way. Not happening. Louis’ own cock is perfectly average for his size, thank you very much, decently long and thick, but Harry’s is an absolute <i>monster</i>. It would probably kill him.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry says, still holding Louis’ hand away from it, making the urge to poke at it again flare up even stronger than before. Except he’s actually holding Louis’ hand now, fingers laced together and palms touching. “We can just do something else? You want me to blow you?”</p>
<p>He doesn’t even sound that disappointed, the bastard. And he <i>should</i> be disappointed - Louis isn’t one to toot his own horn, so to speak, but he has a marvelous arse and he knows it. Harry knows it too. Sometimes Louis will bend down to pick up something he’s dropped and when he turns around Harry’s eyes will be glazed over and he’ll be biting down on his index finger. He’s really very obvious about it.</p>
<p>“You’re the worst,” Louis tells him matter-of-factly. It’s true and he thinks Harry should hear it from him. “There’s no reason for you to have a cock that big. It’s obscene.”</p>
<p>“Why are you acting like you’re surprised?” Harry asks, confusion evident in his voice. “It’s not the first time you’ve seen it, Lou.”</p>
<p>Great, now he’s repeating himself. Louis must have broken him. </p>
<p>“There’s a difference between seeing it because you’re a nudist and seeing it because you want to put it inside of me,” Louis responds tartly, closing his fingers around Harry’s. He still wants to poke it. “I don’t want it to read <i>death by dicking</i> in my obituary, Harry.”</p>
<p>“Pretty sure that’s not the way an obituary works,” Harry mutters, but before Louis can express his outrage about being corrected he’s continuing, “Seriously, we can do something else. Do you wanna fuck me instead?”</p>
<p>Louis squirms. It’s a pretty telling squirm, he’s sure. Maybe not to someone else but this is Harry and Harry knows all of his squirms.</p>
<p>“Or do you want me to kiss you until you’re calm and then finger you until you’re a sobbing mess, so far gone you’re not even worried about the size thing anymore, and then use your arousal as a distraction to get my cock inside of you?”</p>
<p>“Fuck you,” Louis says, but it’s a defense mechanism and they both know it, and Harry’s pressing him back against the mattress before Louis can even blink, all big warm boy on top of him, rubbing his dick along the crease of Louis’ thigh as though Louis isn’t going to notice. Before he can call Harry out on it he’s being kissed, both of Harry’s hands buried in his hair, holding him still for it.</p>
<p>It’s a deep kiss, wet and thrilling, and suddenly the fact that they’re both naked comes hurtling back in Louis’ direction, smacking him directly in the face like an actual cock smacking him in the face. He lets his lips part wider, lets Harry’s tongue slip inside, curling around his own. They’re both breathing hard, practically gasping for air, and it doesn’t matter because they’re still kissing, still sucking on each other’s tongues like it’s going out of style.</p>
<p>Louis’ cock is hard and weeping at the tip, begging for attention, and he can barely even concentrate on it, he’s being kissed so good. Slow and sweeping like they have all the time in the world, like it’s the only thing Harry wants to do for the rest of his life, just lay here in this bed and kiss Louis until their mouths are numb, until the only thing they taste of is each other.</p>
<p>“Gonna start with one, baby,” Harry murmurs, never even breaking the kiss, and Louis doesn’t even have time to jump before a lube slick finger is sliding its way down the crease of his arse, touching his hole reverently. “Okay?”</p>
<p>He waits for Louis’ slow nod in response before letting it slip inside, and it really does feel that easy. Like a slow, sensual slip, filling him up and opening him for bigger things, better things. It already feels so good, thick with just the tiniest hint of a burn, bigger than Louis’ own fingers when he does this to himself, but that makes sense, he thinks a little wildly, because Harry’s hands are huge. So fucking big, capable of holding Louis down or holding him up or just holding him.</p>
<p>Louis really should have seen the whole monster cock thing coming just by the size of Harry’s hands.</p>
<p>“How do you feel?” Harry asks, barely even an inch away from Louis’ mouth. There’s the tiniest hint of a wince on his face, and abruptly Louis realizes it’s due to how hard he’s digging his fingernails into Harry’s back.</p>
<p>It takes effort to loosen his grip, but Louis manages. “Feels like you’ve got a finger inside me bum, Harry, what did you think it’d feel like?”</p>
<p>Harry’s gaze gets a little hotter. He bites down on his own lower lip and there’s no mistaking that he wants it to be Louis’ mouth he’s biting at instead.</p>
<p>Fuckin’ vampire. He gives lovebites the size of England whenever Louis lets him.</p>
<p>“So what you’re saying is that you’re ready for another one?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow, and Louis has barely gotten used to the stretch of this one because it <i>does</i> fucking feel different than when Louis does it to himself, okay, but this is clearly a challenge and Louis doesn’t back down from challenges.</p>
<p>“Hit me, big boy,” he says, wiggling, trying to hide his gasp when it causes that finger inside of him to brush against his prostate. The curve of Harry’s smile says that he sees it, and Louis would care about that, he would, except he’s too busy being speared on a second finger.</p>
<p>It feels - Christ, it feels so fucking good. He knows for a fact that Harry hasn’t been going around fingering random boys but it feels like he’s got a decade of experience regardless, stroking his fingers slowly over Louis’ prostate over and over again until Louis feels like he’s about to come just from this.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Harry whispers, pressing a soft, gentle little kiss to the corner of Louis’ mouth. “I’m gonna tell you something, alright?” The swing of his necklace over Louis’ chest as he moves is comforting, familiar, warm metal of it reassuring. “I love you.”</p>
<p>He’s lucky that this isn’t the first time he’s said it, otherwise Louis would be throwing the biggest hissy fit ever right now, impending orgasm be damned. Seeing as it’s not, Louis kisses him back, murmurs the words back the best he can while he’s two fingers full. Then, not even a minute later, when that slow stroking over his prostate becomes almost unbearable, he whines out, “Fuck me, Haz, ‘m ready - ”</p>
<p>The shake of Harry’s head is even slower than the stroke of his fingers. “You’re not,” he says, still using that same sweet, low tone that always gets Louis’ cock dripping for him, even way back at the beginning. “Don’t wanna break you, remember?”</p>
<p>Okay, Louis is willing to admit that he overreacted earlier, but in his defense Harry’s cock is quite big and Louis is pretty sure that he’s not a big fan of pain during sex. Still, though, that’s no excuse for the tortuously slow way Harry wiggles a third finger in beside the first two, spreading them apart. Louis gasps for air, unable to stop his near constant moaning, and digs his nails right back into Harry’s shoulders.</p>
<p>The welts he’ll have in the morning will serve him right.</p>
<p>“Hurry,” Louis begs, so beyond the point of caring any more, “please, babe, want it, want you,” and the like until he can’t even tell what he’s saying anymore.</p>
<p>Harry’s response is sweet and soothing, Louis is pretty sure, but he can’t actually tell because he’s going to come, he’s going to spurt all over Harry’s belly, all the way up his chest and get him in the face, going to make him messy and wet without anyone even touching his cock, going to -</p>
<p>And then Harry stops. His fingers are still buried deep in Louis’ arse but they’re not pressing directly against his prostate anymore, still and unmoving.</p>
<p>“Told you,” Harry murmurs, and the only thing Louis can do is huff out an exasperated laugh, letting one arm fall off Harry’s shoulder and over his own face. It’s slick with sweat and almost unbearably warm. It’s just like Harry to let Louis think he’s forgotten about something and then bring it up again as soon as he knows he’s right.</p>
<p>They’re a little bit too similar in that respect.</p>
<p>“Want it now,” Louis says, not bothering to try to disguise the tremor in his voice. He’s in love with Harry and he wants Harry to know exactly how he makes Louis feel, every shake and shudder and overwhelming feeling he’d never let anyone else see.</p>
<p>“God, me too,” Harry sighs. There’s barely even a split second between his fingers drawing out and his cock pushing in, and it feels exactly like Louis thought it would, big and stretching him out, every inch of it stuffing itself inside Louis’ arse like it belongs there.</p>
<p>Louis is making so much noise he’s pretty sure the neighbours are going to complain, but he can’t stop himself, can only gasp and whine and moan as Harry sinks into him.</p>
<p>Vaguely, he can hear Harry making the same kind of noises an inch away from his ear. They’re clinging together, too overwhelmed even for kissing, and it feels good but it also feels like <i>a lot</i>.</p>
<p>It’s a lot.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Harry grits out eventually. “Lou, baby, ‘m gonna come so soon, can I go? Please say I can go.”</p>
<p>“Uh,” Louis manages, losing the second syllable of his response somewhere between his throat and his mouth. It doesn’t matter, though, because Harry understands it the same way he understands everything else that comes out of Louis’ mouth, pressing his forehead against Louis’ and starting to thrust quick and shallow, bringing wave after wave of pleasure that doesn’t ebb.</p>
<p>Only peaks.</p>
<p>Louis would make fun of Harry for having such poor stamina, he would, but it only takes about five thrusts before his own orgasm is coiled too tight in his belly to be able to hold out any longer, and he only barely gets a hand curled around his cock before he’s coming, Harry only a beat behind him.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Harry sighs again after a minute, heavy, sticky weight on top of Louis, cock softening in his arse in a way Louis never expected to be able to feel. “Baby.”</p>
<p>That’s all he says, just <i>fuck</i> and <i>baby</i> and Louis kind of wishes he wasn’t so endeared by it, because it’s making it much harder than it should be to push this giant sack of flesh off of him right now. He’s <i>heavy</i>.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Shower Sex</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck,” Louis breathes, nails digging into Harry’s back, chin tipped up and eyes mostly closed, holding on Harry fucks him, rough and fast and unbelievably good.</p>
<p>Water spills into his mouth from the showerhead as Harry moves them. Louis swallows it, can’t even care that he’s half drowning when he’s this hard, when he feels this good. He’s going to come, and he’s going to come <i>soon</i>, and until then he’s got cock filling him so good it kind of hurts. Just a little.</p>
<p>“Kinda already am,” Harry breathes back, mouth pressed against the hollow of Louis’ throat. He’s doing way more than his fair share of work, and he’s doing it so fucking well, holding Louis up against their shower wall and nailing him underneath a steady stream of water. Louis feels hot all over, like he’s burning up, heat of the water and the flow of his own blood burning through his veins.</p>
<p>No one could ever fuck him like Harry does, Louis thinks absently. He pries one of his hands off Harry’s back and reaches up, meaning to smooth it over the back of Harry’s head but ends up with his fingers tangled in his hair instead.</p>
<p>Oh well. Close enough. He opens his mouth to tell Harry that, tell him what a good job he’s doing, and - </p>
<p>Ends up banging his head instead. Hard. He bites down on his tongue in the process, mouth instantly filling with blood, and he must make a noise, probably a loud, sharp one, and the next thing he knows he’s sprawled out on his back on the ground, water spraying down on him and arse empty.</p>
<p>“Ow,” Louis says plaintively, cradling his elbow to his chest and making no effort to get up. They’ve got heated floors, he could probably live down here.</p>
<p>“Baby,” Harry says, shocked and panicky, “fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, my foot slipped and - ”</p>
<p>He keeps babbling as he takes Louis into his arms gingerly, the words meaningless and empty. Louis blinks up at the ceiling, hanging limp in Harry’s arms, only avoiding getting hit in the face by the water because Harry shifts them over a few inches.</p>
<p>“You dropped me,” Louis says, almost blank. He knows how he gets during sex, especially sex of the penetrative kind, and interrupting it never really goes well for him. Always feels lost and confused. Can’t even bring himself to be mad right now, goosebumps breaking out on his skin.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Harry murmurs, pushing himself to his feet carefully, careful, turning off the water and getting Louis out of the shower, wrapping a towel around him, rubbing him dry gently. “Are you hurt?”</p>
<p>Louis considers. He doesn’t feel hurt, not really. Mostly just bruised, ego a little sore. A little disappointed that he didn’t get to come. So inconsiderate, being dropped before he gets to come.</p>
<p>“You didn’t make me come,” he says a little sulkily.</p>
<p>Harry holds back a laugh. He doesn’t do a very good job of it, shoulders shaking as he pats Louis on the bum and steers him out of the bathroom, back into the bedroom. Louis narrows his eyes, resolving to do something truly terrible to Harry’s things as soon as he feels up to it.</p>
<p>“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” is all Harry says, helping Louis into the bed, taking the towel and dropping it on the floor in the process.</p>
<p>He’s the worst. Louis hates him.</p>
<p>“You’re the worst. I hate you.”</p>
<p>“Well, that sucks, because I’m really in love with you,” Harry says solemnly, nudging Louis over a little, making room for himself on the bed. He leans down, making it obvious that he’s going in for a kiss.</p>
<p>Louis lets him, but only because he likes kissing and Harry is a good kisser. After they’ve finished kissing Louis is going to get up and destroy all of Harry’s stuff. Definitely.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Unrelated, Unspecified Drabbles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The drabbles in this chapter are unrelated to each other, but it's been so long since I've written them that I can't remember whether they were meant to be canon or not. So they can be read as canon or AU, whatever your preference is! They are:</p>
<p>Sick Harry<br/>Dancing<br/>Upset Louis<br/>Camping</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Sick Harry</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Baby,” Harry croaks out miserably, flinging a hand out from underneath the sheets, feeling around for the heat of Louis’ body. “My throat hurts, can you get me some tea?”</p>
<p>He can’t find Louis, so he gives up, letting his hand flop down bonelessly, face still buried in his pillow.</p>
<p>Louis snorts. “I think you forgot who wears the pants in this relationship,” he says mildly. His voice sounds like it’s coming from across the room. Reluctantly, Harry cracks an eye open, wincing at the bright light the blinds are letting into the room.</p>
<p>“I’m sick,” Harry says as pitifully as he can manage. It sounds very pitiful, which matches how he feels. Sick and pitiful. If Louis doesn’t start pitying him soon Harry’s going to riot.</p>
<p>Just as soon as he feels up to rioting again.</p>
<p>“You’re a giant baby who doesn’t listen to his better half, that’s what you are,” Louis retorts, but he unfolds himself from his chair and crosses the room in his bare feet to flick the kettle on. “I told you that jumping into an outdoor pool in the middle of October in Chicago is a terrible idea.”</p>
<p>Harry lets his eyes close again, wiggling his shoulders so the sheets are covering them. “To be fair, who still has their pool filled in October? It’s just asking for trouble.”</p>
<p>The bed dips as Louis climbs up. Harry doesn’t bother opening his eyes, sighing gratefully when Louis’ cool palm comes in contact with his sweaty forehead. He’ll gripe about it, and tell Harry all the ways he knows better than him, but at the end of the day there’s really no one who takes care of him like Louis does. Even when he’s sick.</p>
<p>“You have a fever,” Louis informs him. “I would say this is what you deserve, but considering that I’m the one who always ends up taking care of you, I can’t help but feel like this is a punishment for something I’ve done in the past.”</p>
<p>Unwittingly, Harry cracks a smile. Louis’ fingers drift through his hair, achingly gentle about it, even when he reaches a tangle. “Once the tea is ready, will you cuddle with me?”</p>
<p>“Darling,” Louis murmurs, rubbing his thumb behind Harry’s ear, “If you think that I’m going to breathe in your germs for even a second longer than necessary you really don’t know me at all.”</p>
<p>He pinches Harry’s cheek before he gets up, just as the kettle starts to whistle. Harry sighs both loudly and sadly, but Louis isn’t really fooling anyone. He’s definitely going to catch this cold before the week is up, and then he’s going to be an even worse patient than Harry is.</p>
<p>Harry is looking forward to it.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Dancing</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The music is loud, thumping. It echoes through Harry’s bones, matching the beat of his heart, the race of his blood. It’s fast and makes him want to dance, match every movement Louis makes.</p>
<p>He couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to, not with the way Louis’ arse is pressed up against his crotch, moving fluidly, sultry. It’s hot, humid, and there’s sweat trickling down Harry’s temple, the back of Louis’ neck, and it’s very hard not to bend down and taste it, trace its path with his tongue.</p>
<p>Actually, scratch that. There’s no reason not to do just that, so Harry does, leaning forward and fastening his mouth to that tiny little trickle of moisture, lapping it up with his tongue. Feels the shiver go through Louis’ body.</p>
<p>One of Louis’ hands covers Harry’s, fingers lacing together. Slides them down, down, over his chest, his belly, lingering just above his groin. Their already dirty dancing gets that much dirtier, just like that.</p>
<p>Harry’s breath is caught in his throat, cock pressing against the seam of his jeans. Nudges his mouth up against Louis’ ear and says, just loud enough to be heard, “Wanna get outta here?”</p>
<p>Can feel Louis’ swallow even as he nods.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Upset Louis</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you want a banana?” Harry asks, thrusting an entire bunch of bananas underneath Louis’ nose.</p>
<p>Louis resists the urge to sigh and draws his blankets up higher. “No.”</p>
<p>“What about a kiwi?” Harry asks hopefully, abandoning the bananas and shoving two kiwis into Louis’ face, both of them cradled in one giant hand.</p>
<p>Louis stops resisting the urge and sighs, making it as drama-free as he’s capable of right now. “No, Harry. Maybe just some tea, love. Tea would be nice.”</p>
<p>“Tea,” Harry agrees desperately, nearly braining himself on the bedside table as he pushes himself to his feet. “I can do tea. Tea is good. Nice warm tea,” he babbles to himself as he rushes out the door.</p>
<p>Louis contemplates smothering himself with the pillow. He doesn’t, because Harry would panic even more if he came back and saw it, but for a minute he wants to, if only to get away from Harry’s hovering.</p>
<p>Harry’s back before Louis is ready for it, bustling through the door with his arms weighed down with food and drinks and, inexplicably, a blanket from the couch that he drapes over Louis for no reason.</p>
<p>“I brought you candy bars,” he says hopefully, holding them out.</p>
<p>Seriously. <i>Seriously</i>. “You get that I’m not dying, right?” Louis asks, pushing himself up onto an elbow so he can eye Harry closer.</p>
<p>“I know that,” Harry says immediately, still holding the candy bars out.</p>
<p>Louis sighs and lets himself fall back against the mattress, holding his arms out. “C’mere.” </p>
<p>Harry folds himself into Louis’ arms like he’s been waiting for it, tucking his head underneath Louis’ chin and somehow managing to wrap his arms around Louis’ back. “I don’t need any of this stuff,” Louis tells him, petting his hair gently. “I’m just sad and I’m not ready to talk about it, but when I am you know you’re gonna be the first person I tell, right?”</p>
<p>“I know,” Harry says miserably, breath warm against Louis’ throat. “You being sad makes me sad, though.”</p>
<p>What a big dumb lug. “It’s okay,” Louis says, still stroking Harry’s head. “We can just lie here and be sad together, how about that?”</p>
<p>That’s what they do, curled up together in Louis’ bed, and in the morning Louis tells him about it while Harry breathes deep and even, still asleep.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Camping</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<i>It’s so cold</i>,” Louis repeats for what has to be the sixtieth time that day, hugging himself and shivering theatrically.</p>
<p>Harry bites his tongue so he won’t say what he wants to say, which is <i>maybe you should have packed something warmer than two t-shirts and three vests, then</i>.</p>
<p>“Aww, Lou,” Liam coos, hugging Louis from behind, lifting him up off his feet. Louis squawks, hitting at Liam’s arms and struggling. He ends up toppling them over, and they roll around on the ground, getting dirt and leaves all over themselves.</p>
<p>Harry scowls a bit and returns his attention to the tent. Liam got his up like ten minutes ago and Harry is still struggling, but instead of offering to help Liam and Louis are wrestling like five year olds.</p>
<p>It takes a few more minutes, but Harry eventually manages it. It’s gone dark, and it was an eight hour drive to even get here, and Harry is tired. They’re all tired, he’s pretty sure, and they’re all just going to crash for the night, have a fresh start in the morning. It’s too late to consider doing anything else.</p>
<p>“I’m going to bed,” Harry announces, not bothering to wait for anyone to respond before crawling into the tent, leaving the flap hanging open.</p>
<p>There’s about fifteen minutes of chatter before the noise dies down and the sounds of the night take over, crickets chirping and car engines humming in the distance. Then, finally, Louis comes crawling in on his hands and knees like he’s <i>trying</i> to be provocative, arse swaying a little.</p>
<p>Harry watches him through mostly closed eyelids, trying to decide whether to pretend to be asleep or not. It’s been a long day and if Louis knows he’s awake he might want to talk.</p>
<p>“H,” Louis whispers, climbing clumsily over the blankets and burrowing underneath them, right up against Harry’s side, “Haz, ‘m cold.”</p>
<p>There’s a soft, plaintive note in his voice that wasn’t there before, back when he was complaining about being cold mainly for the sake of complaining, one that means he’s actually cold now.</p>
<p>It’s so irritating, the way he always knows how to get under Harry’s skin and make him care when Harry was <i>determined</i> not to. “I fucking told you to bring a jacket,” Harry mutters, turning onto his side and rubbing Louis’ arms briskly, trying to warm him up. “Never fucking listen, do you.”</p>
<p>Louis’ pout gets even poutier, even in the dark of the tent. “That’s why I have you, innit?” he asks, pulling at Harry’s forearms, trying to pull him down. “So you can warm me up when I don’t listen to you and bring a jacket.”</p>
<p>“Or you could just check the weather forecast for once in your life,” Harry mutters, but he’s already shifting over Louis’ legs, bringing the blanket with him so they’re cocooned in a dark, warm little nest.</p>
<p>“Mm,” Louis sighs, blankets rustling as he spreads his legs, making more room for Harry in between them. “Hi.”</p>
<p>Despite himself, Harry smiles down at him. “Hi.”</p>
<p>They’ve spent the entire day together but it’s been with other people. This is the first time they’ve been alone all day.</p>
<p>Louis licks his lips, slipping his hands up Harry’s arms to his shoulders. “Missed you. Wanted to ask you to keep me warm all day but I figured the boys wouldn’t like that.”</p>
<p>“Since when do you care about that?” Harry asks, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to Louis’ mouth. </p>
<p>“Figured we should lay off a bit, being a lads weekend and all,” Louis shrugs. “No reason to scar ‘em any more than we already have.”</p>
<p>“Nice of you,” Harry tells him, reaching up so he can tangle their fingers together. They’re probably not gonna have sex, not tonight, but this is nice anyway, just tangled up together in a tent. “Still should have brought a jacket.”</p>
<p>Louis bites him. Harry probably had it coming.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Valentine's Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Unrealistic Romanticism</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a long day of promo. As the car pulls up to his house, Louis doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful to see his front door. He scurries out of the car, tossing out a rushed <i>thank you</i> over his shoulder, and gets inside as fast as humanly possible.</p>
<p>Inside, the first thing he does is kick off his shoes and drop all of his stuff on the table. The second thing he does is a grab a cold beer from the fridge, crack it open, and take two long swigs of it. The third thing he does is head up the stairs to his bedroom, ready to strip the toll of the day off with a shower and at least eight hours of sleep in his bed.</p>
<p>What he sees stops him in his tracks. The beer bottle dangles loosely from his fingers, threatening to slip to the floor for a second before he remembers he’s holding it.</p>
<p>“Jesus,” he breathes, pressing his free hand against his mouth. Tears well up in his eyes so fast he can’t blink them away, one or two spilling over before he can stop them.</p>
<p>It’s breathtaking. At nearly eleven o’clock at night, this is the last thing Louis expected to walk into. There are rose petals scattered across the bedspread, a giant teddy bear perched on top of the chair, bouquets of flowers in vases on every solid surface, and boxes of chocolates arranged neatly in the shape of a heart on top of the rose petals on the bed. It’s over the top and ridiculous, so pink it’s almost blinding, and Louis loves it.</p>
<p>He fumbles with his phone, barely taking his eyes away from the scene as he scrolls through his contacts.</p>
<p>When Niall picks up, it sounds like he’s talking through a mouthful of food. “’Lo?”</p>
<p>“Neil,” Louis says shakily, pressing the cold bottle to his belly. “It’s beautiful.”</p>
<p>“What’s beautiful?” Niall asks, still chewing. The sound is loud and obnoxious in Louis’ ear, and he can barely hear it.</p>
<p>Louis pulls the phone away from his ear, looking at it just long enough to switch the call over to Facetime. Niall’s hair is messy and unwashed, and Louis doesn’t even take the opportunity make fun of him for it before turning the phone around to show Niall the room.</p>
<p>“Look at it,” Louis demands, shaking the phone for emphasis. “Isn’t it amazing?”</p>
<p>There’s a few more seconds of obnoxious chewing before Niall responds. “Why are you acting so surprised? Doesn’t he get you something every year?”</p>
<p>Well, yeah, normally. Louis hadn’t expected anything this year, though. Not with Harry in an entirely different country on an entirely different time zone. And it’s never been anything to this extent, either. This is – this is something else entirely.</p>
<p>“Look at it,” Louis insists, shaking the phone some more. The whole reason he called Niall instead of Calvin or Oli is because he can usually bully Niall into doing what he says. Plus there’s the whole thing where Calvin and Oli think it’s weird that Harry buys him Valentine’s Day presents when they’re not in a relationship.</p>
<p>“I’m looking, I’m looking,” Niall yells. “Jesus, hold the phone steady, would ya? Gonna give me a fit or something.”</p>
<p>Louis obliges, sweeping the phone across the scene steadily, making sure to get every element on the screen. “S’very beautiful, Tommo,” Niall says solemnly. “D’ya miss him?”</p>
<p>“So much,” Louis whispers shakily, reversing the direction of the phone to go back over everything. Just so Niall won’t be able to see how teary he is.</p>
<p>“I missed you too, sweetheart.”</p>
<p>The voice comes from behind him. Louis’ phone slips from his hand, thudding softly against the carpeted floor. Harry’s leaning against the open door, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, one foot over the other. He looks casual, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, exposing half of his chest, and he’s <i>here</i>.</p>
<p>Holy fuck, he’s here.</p>
<p>Louis stoops down just long enough to set his beer bottle on the floor, launching himself in Harry’s direction. Harry catches him, hands under Louis’ thighs to help hoist him up, and then they’re hugging for the first time in six weeks, so tight it’s almost hard to breathe.</p>
<p>“You’re here,” Louis says wetly. He pulls away a bit, but only to look back at the room. “This is amazing. I love it.”</p>
<p>He wiggles out of the hug, taking a few steps back towards the center of the room, taking it all in again. It’s all so overwhelming he has to press a hand over his heart, feeling the rapid thump of it under his palm.</p>
<p>The warmth of Harry’s body presses up against Louis’ back. Louis leans into him, humming as Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist, holding him close. “You like it?” Harry asks, mouth set against the curve of Louis’ ear, making him shiver.</p>
<p>“He cried,” Niall’s voice comes from the phone still laying on the floor, forgotten and tinny. Louis bends at the waist to pick it up, arse pressing back against Harry’s thigh as he does.</p>
<p>“Hello, Niall,” Harry says.</p>
<p>“Goodbye, Niall,” Louis chirps, hitting the end button. He shoves his phone into his pocket and puts his hands over Harry’s, wiggling his fingers in between Harry’s. There’s a pleased, warm squirming in his belly, and he can’t remember the last time he was this happy.</p>
<p>“Do you wanna watch a film?” Harry asks, voice still murmuring directly into Louis’ ear.</p>
<p>Slowly, Louis shakes his head, still staring at the bed. It’s everything he never knew he wanted, and he doesn’t know how Harry did. Harry chuckles, tugging at the hem of Louis’ t-shirt. “Alright. Let’s get you out of these clothes then, yeah?”</p>
<p>Louis helps strip himself down quickly, and then pushes Harry down so he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. He fits himself into Harry’s lap, both of them down to only their pants, leaning back against Harry’s chest.</p>
<p>He can’t take his eyes off of it. He’s not sure that he’s ever going to want to.</p>
<p>“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” Harry says, pressing his palm flat against Louis’ stomach. </p>
<p>Fumblingly, Louis covers it with his own. “I didn’t think you’d come,” he confesses in a whisper.</p>
<p>“Cancelled a couple of interviews, rescheduled a photoshoot,” Harry says. “Wanted to be here with you when you saw it.”</p>
<p>It’s – everything. There’s been periods of Louis’ life when he was embarrassed about how much he loves Valentine’s Day – almost ashamed of it, really – but that’s long since over. And Harry putting this all together, flying here to be with him – </p>
<p>Louis turns his head, searching. Harry’s mouth meets his effortlessly, soft and sweet, and then they’re kissing and it’s just as easy as it’s been every other time they’ve kissed.</p>
<p>Except. Except maybe something feels a little different this time. Something like a slow, dawning realization. It’s been ten years, and yeah, maybe they’ve only been doing it, this whole sex thing, for the last couple of them, but.</p>
<p>But.</p>
<p>“Have you been trying to date me?” Louis asks, their mouths mere centimeters apart. “This whole time, have you been trying to date me?”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t look nearly as caught out as Louis had been expecting him to. His dimples are out in full force, deep enough to poke at. “Baby,” Harry murmurs, as happy as Louis has ever seen him, “If you think what we’ve been doing for the last ten years <i>wasn’t</i> dating, I don’t know what to tell you.”</p>
<p>“You waited eight years to have sex with me,” Louis accuses breathlessly, jabbing Harry in his bare shoulder.</p>
<p>“Seven and a half,” Harry corrects. “Besides, sex is the very last thing on a long list of what makes this a relationship. I would have waited another ten years if that’s how long it took before you were ready.”</p>
<p>“I hate you,” Louis declares. “You should have told me.”</p>
<p>His chest feels like it’s going to burst, happiness leaking out of every pore. He doesn’t understand how he never got it before now, but now that he does – </p>
<p>Well, now that he does, nothing’s really changed, has it? The evidence is spread all over every surface of this room. They’ve been doing this for years, and maybe Louis should have clued in with the very first rose Harry gave him back on the X-Factor, but it doesn’t matter that he didn’t. Harry’s loved him the same for ten years, and Louis has loved him right back.</p>
<p>“Why?” Harry asks, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “So I could miss this look on your face?”</p>
<p>The only reason Louis kisses him is because it’s Valentine’s Day and Harry set this all up for him. Tomorrow, after they’ve had a marathon amount of sex, he’ll start plotting his revenge.</p>
<p>Tomorrow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Wall Sex</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Size Kink<br/>Bets During Sex</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shut up, shut up,” Harry says, biting the words out into Louis’ mouth as he hoists Louis up higher, pinning him against the wall. There’s no chance that they’re going to make it to the bedroom. </p>
<p>Oh well. It’s not like they’ve never christened this particular wall before. There’s one wall near the laundry room that’s virginal, but only because bending Louis over the dryer will always win out over holding him up against the wall.</p>
<p>“Just do your fucking job <i>properly</i>,” Louis hisses, slamming the palm of his hand down between Harry’s shoulders. It stings against Harry’s bare skin.</p>
<p>Harry could say that he <i>is</i> doing his job properly - he’s got them both down to their pants, and the only reason neither of them are completely naked yet is because Louis distracted him with a hand curled around his cock over his pants. So he is doing his job properly. It’s <i>Louis</i> who’s not doing it properly.</p>
<p>Saying any of that would only result in Louis hitting him some more.</p>
<p>“Stop fucking <i>squirming</i>, then,” Harry shoots back, pulling their hips together so their cocks slide together, hindered by cloth. </p>
<p>“I’m seeing if you’re going to drop me,” Louis says, wiggling some more. “I’m still scarred from that time that you dropped me in the kitchen.”</p>
<p><i>One fucking time</i>. He drops Louis one fucking time, and only because the doorbell had rung and Louis had twisted out of Harry’s arms to make sure that the back door was locked, and Harry’s still getting blamed for it.</p>
<p>“Don’t even start,” Harry says, and then, because he fucking <i>lives</i> for proving Louis wrong, leans back enough that he can get both of Louis’ legs on one side of him and strip him out of his pants both without letting his feet touch the ground and in less than five seconds.</p>
<p>He lets Louis wiggle himself back into position, legs wrapping around Harry’s back, and watches him until Louis breaks. “Maybe,” he allows, and Harry can read between the lines. </p>
<p>There’s no better feeling in the world then Louis acknowledging exactly how capable Harry is of taking care of him, of fucking him. Thousands of fans singing their words back at them is amazing, but even that pales a little in comparison to this.</p>
<p>“You know you’re little,” Harry says, getting a hand between them and curling it around Louis’ cock, stroking him a little. “I could probably hold you like this for like an hour.”</p>
<p>Louis’ swallow is audible. Harry strokes him a little faster, lingering over the head. “’m not little.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Harry asks skeptically, brushing his mouth over Louis’ jaw. “Because right now I’m holding you up against a wall and I haven’t even broken a sweat.”</p>
<p>Louis whacks him on the shoulder again, head tipping back against the wall. “You’re a fucking liar.”</p>
<p>“No,” Harry says, dragging his mouth across Louis’ skin, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake, “I could. I could fuck you up against this wall for as long as it takes for you to come, baby, and I would love every second of it.”</p>
<p>He knows what Louis is going to say even before Louis opens his mouth. “Prove it.” He toes pointedly at the waist of Harry’s pants, and just to impress him Harry holds him against the wall with only the weight of his body, using both hands to shuck his briefs down, kicking them off and hopefully far enough away that he won’t slip on them when he’s buried balls deep in Louis’ arse. Louis would never let him live it down.</p>
<p>The lube appears like magic - or maybe just like Louis’ been clinging to it for the past ten minutes. Probably that. Harry likes his theory better.</p>
<p>He clicks it open and squeezes a generous amount out, spilling down his palm and wrist in a way that’s going to be incredibly sticky in about ten minutes. Louis has never been great at waiting, so it’s not really a surprise when his hand knocks into Harry’s in his attempt to grab Harry’s cock.</p>
<p>“Got yourself a giant fucking cock,” Louis says, voice reverberating through Harry’s chest, “and you’re gonna try to fit it all inside of me.”</p>
<p>As far as distractions go, it’s a pretty decent one. Harry is of the opinion that most blokes are at least a little bit proud of their cocks, and he’s one of them. Complimenting it is always flattering.</p>
<p>Sex with Louis is always a competition, though, and the only reason that Louis is even saying it is because he wants to win - the unspoken bet that Harry can hold him like this for an hour, that is. He’s probably banking on the words driving Harry at least a little crazy.</p>
<p>“It does all fit inside of you,” Harry murmurs to the side of Louis’ face, watching the best he can as he circles Louis’ rim with one finger, lube clinging to his skin. “You remember the first time I fucked you? Thought you were gonna cry from how much you wanted it while I was opening you up, then thought you were gonna cry from how much you were getting when I was pushing in.”</p>
<p>Louis isn’t getting heavy in his arms, exactly, but Harry’s starting to notice the strain in his muscles, and there’s sweat prickling on his forehead. Technically he’s already lost this bet. He can probably get Louis too fucked out to even remember the terms of it, though, so he eases a finger inside the tight clench of Louis’ hole, slow and careful. Not because he wants to make sure that Louis is okay, or because he doesn’t want to hurt him, but because a long, slow fingering drives Louis crazy like few other things do.</p>
<p>Being made to feel tiny, that gets to him like that, too.</p>
<p>“Found myself a nice big cock and decided that I was gonna keep it,” Louis manages, clutching onto Harry’s shoulders, nails scraping over his skin. There’ll be welts there in a couple of minutes, ones that will take a little bit of time to go away. There’ll probably even be a few that bleed, if Harry has his way. Louis gets scratchy and bitey when Harry’s really giving it to him good, and he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing it most of the time.</p>
<p>“Easier than going out and finding one when you want to get off like that,” Harry agrees, taking a second to kiss Louis properly as he wiggles his finger around, making space for a second one. The kiss is hot and wet and biting, and there’s probably a bit too much spit going on, but that just makes it hotter, has Harry’s cock pulsing heavily.</p>
<p>“Might do that if you don’t get on with it,” Louis says in between kisses, biting at Harry’s tongue. “Go out and find myself a new boy to call love and darling and let him put his cock up in me twice a day.”</p>
<p>He’s still fucking trying to get Harry to lose, but the thought of someone else putting their hands all over Louis, the thought of Louis taking another cock, does make him crazy. He pushes a second finger inside Louis’ hole a little abruptly, searching out his prostate. Louis’ lips part when he finds it, wet pink tongue coming out to lick at the bottom one. </p>
<p>“You don’t need another cock,” Harry says, pushing his hips up so his cock rubs against Louis’ bum, head slipping wetly along his skin, “got the only cock you’ll ever need right here, baby.”</p>
<p>“What if I want a bigger one?” Louis demands, pushing down onto Harry’s fingers, riding them way too fucking well for someone in his position. He’s tiny and limber and athletic and god Harry’s cock is so hard.</p>
<p>So is Louis’, almost bouncing against his stomach as he tries to angle Harry’s fingers the way he likes without actually taking his hands off of Harry’s back, and that’s pretty enough that Harry risks seriously losing the bet by wanking him with the hand that’s not two fingers deep, fast enough that Louis moans high in his throat and squeezes his eyes and his thighs closed at the same time.</p>
<p>“So fucking pretty when you’re trying not to come,” Harry says, not letting up. The amount of points he’d get for making Louis come before the actual fucking might outweigh the ones he’ll lose when he inevitably breaks and doesn’t last the full hour. They might end up having to do a tie-breaker. Maybe a sixty-nine. Harry could definitely win a sixty-nine - rimming totally counts in a sixty-nine. He’ll just have to make his case for that first.</p>
<p>“Fuck me, babe,” Louis begs, scratching the shit out of Harry’s back, mindless and wanton. “Fuck me, please, just fuck me, doesn’t matter - “ he stops to gulp in air, moving between Harry’s hands like he can’t stop himself.</p>
<p>There’s a half-formed thought there that Harry isn’t willing to let go, not if it’s what he thinks it is. “What doesn’t matter?” he asks gently, adding a third finger and scissoring them slowly, just for the way Louis’ throat looks as he swallows.</p>
<p>“I forfeit,” Louis says, eyes blinking open slowly. The black of his pupils are bleeding into the blue, fucked out and overwhelmed, and Louis doesn’t forfeit bets. He doesn’t give up and he doesn’t give in and he doesn’t admit defeat.</p>
<p>Except when he wants to be fucked so badly that he’s nearly out of his mind with it. “My perfect beautiful tiny boy,” Harry says softly, pressing their mouths together gently. “Gonna give you what you want, baby.”</p>
<p>His arms are shaking a little as he withdraws his fingers, re-positions their hips so it’ll be easier, and starts pushing in. Gravity does most of the work for them, Louis’ arse sinking down onto his cock inch by glorious inch, and it’s everything Harry has wanted since they walked in the door.</p>
<p>There’s a reason they didn’t make it to the bedroom. Multiple reasons, actually, and most of them had to do with the way Louis’ arse looked in his jeans.</p>
<p>They’re both struggling to breathe by the time Louis’ all the way down, impaled on Harry’s cock with nowhere to go. Harry’s not going to last long, not when it feels as amazing as it does, but neither is Louis. He can get Louis off first, though, so he slides an arm between Louis’ back and the wall and starts fucking him, moving him easily, up and down, finding a rhythm and sticking to it.</p>
<p>“Love your cock,” Louis says, all but slurring the words, mouth soft and open, practically begging for a thorough tongue fucking. Harry gives it to him, not even faltering, because he might not be good at multi-tasking but he’s awesome at fucking, with his tongue and with his cock.</p>
<p>“Love you,” Harry says back, rubbing his knuckles over Louis’ soft little belly, over the juncture of Louis’ thigh, and he’s not even trying to make Louis come, at least not yet, but he thrusts up hard and stays there for a beat, not even realizing that he’s pressing against Louis’ prostate, and that’s all it takes.</p>
<p>Louis’ orgasm <i>wrecks</i> him, coming apart on Harry’s cock, writhing in Harry’s arms, painting them both with come, and the way he looks - still so fucking tiny, trapped between Harry and the wall - has Harry following him, cock pulsing in Louis’ arse as he fills him up with come, string after string of it.</p>
<p>“Love you, love you,” Louis mumbles, squeezing down around Harry’s cock almost like an after-thought. It’s a little too sensitive. Harry’s careful as he pulls out, slow and steady before he lets Louis down, making sure that he’s still holding him as Louis wobbles and then face plants right into his chest.</p>
<p>“Imagine how much come I just put in you,” Harry says, giving his arms a few seconds reprieve before he picks Louis up again, both legs swung over one arm this time, and makes his way carefully down the hall, avoiding stepping on his briefs on the floor.</p>
<p>“Feels like a lot,” Louis says happily, squirming a little. Harry only makes it as far as the living room, and the couch is the perfect place for an after sex nap, so he manages to get them there, letting Louis elbow him in various places as he wiggles to get comfortable on top of him. “Gonna be dripping for a while. You wanna feel?”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah,” he says, slipping two fingers back into Louis’ hole. “Mm, nice. S’wet.”</p>
<p>“Made me all wet,” Louis agrees, voice soft like he’s about to fall asleep like this, with two of Harry’s fingers still buried inside of him.</p>
<p>It wouldn’t be the first time.</p>
<p>“Make you wet again when we wake up, baby,” Harry promises, patting Louis’ arse with his free hand, and he manages to pull his fingers out before he passes out, but just barely.</p>
<p>He makes good on his promise less than three hours later.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Zayn Leaving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These two drabbles are unrelated to each other.</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Angst<br/>Smoking</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Realistically, it’s something they all knew was coming. Realistically, this has been in the works for some time now, and it’s something Zayn has needed for a long time.</p>
<p>It can be hard to see someone’s breakdown coming from a distance, but that’s not the case with Zayn. Luckily, after the decision is cemented it’s like a weight’s been lifted off of his shoulders, making him happier and more easy-going, more like his old self. It’s hard to be really upset when it’s so obviously the right choice for him.</p>
<p>At least, that’s the case for Harry. He doesn’t feel angry with Zayn for wanting to leave - he’s upset, obviously, and it feels like he’s losing something, but at the same time he gets it.</p>
<p>For an entire month before Zayn’s due to leave Louis is practically glued to his hip. Even more than he already was. Which - Harry understands that, too, because he understands Louis and he understands that deep down Louis is terrified of losing Zayn entirely.</p>
<p>Then Zayn ends up leaving before he was due to, and Louis does his absolute best to go back to normal, making a nuisance of himself and running off with Liam when he’s not supposed to and egging Niall into doing weird dares and annoying the fuck out of Harry and just being <i>more</i> when they’re working, but it’s ten times what he would have been doing before. He’s trying to distract himself and Harry knows that, gets that, but he wants Louis back, wants the boy who is actually capable of sitting still once in a while, wants the boy who cuddles up close at night instead of running himself ragged until four in the morning every morning, writing songs and responding to emails and doing everything all at once.</p>
<p>It all comes to a head when they sit down to do some writing for the next album. It’s not the first time they’ve all written together, but they generally don’t. Song writing is already hard, and it usually only gets harder when all of them are in the same room, getting distracted by each other instead of doing any work. They agreed to writing together this time, though, the first time they sit down to work on the new album. It feels right to start it off as a four piece right from the beginning.</p>
<p>It’s been ten hours, though. Ten hours of sitting in this tiny, cramped room with six other guys, and any time someone even <i>suggests</i> quitting for the night Louis shuts them down. Harshly.</p>
<p>“So none of you are going to come up with any ideas, then?” Louis asks, rolling his eyes. “Figures.”</p>
<p>Across the room, Liam catches Harry’s eye. The look on his face is both resigned and a little desperate, pleading. He’s asking for Harry to do something before Louis says something he’ll regret.</p>
<p>Saying anything is only going to make Louis snap, and that’s the last thing Harry wants to happen in front of everyone, for more people than necessary to watch Louis fall apart. It’d be okay if it was just Liam and Niall, and as much as Harry loves their writing team he doesn’t want them to witness such a vulnerable moment if he can avoid it.</p>
<p>Instead, he pushes himself up out of his chair and walks out of the room without a word, striding down the hallway quick and sure, trying to get as much distance between him and the studio as possible. He knows Louis, and most of all he knows that Louis is incapable of letting things go.</p>
<p>There’s a good amount of distance between him and the studio by the time Louis catches up with him, his voice reverberating through the empty hallway. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he demands. “We’re not done yet.”</p>
<p>Anger. Good. Anger Harry can work with.</p>
<p>He spins around and grabs Louis’ face between his hands, kissing him instead of answering. It’s not a particularly gentle kiss, too biting for that, but it quiets Louis effectively.</p>
<p>“What the fuck - “ Louis starts, once the kiss has broken.</p>
<p>“You need to stop,” Harry interrupts him, pressing their foreheads together and squeezing his eyes closed. “I know you’re hurting, baby, but you’re only making everything worse.”</p>
<p>Louis pulls back entirely, stepping out of the circle of Harry’s arms. “Fuck you.”</p>
<p>“I’m serious,” Harry says, tucking his hands into his pockets just to have somewhere to put them. “I can’t keep watching you torture yourself like this. We’re all in this together, you and me and Liam and Niall. You don’t have to do everything by yourself.”</p>
<p>“I’m not doing everything by myself,” Louis spits, flush rising on his cheeks the way it always does when he’s angry. “I don’t need this from you, arsehole.”</p>
<p>He turns around and starts walking away, and Harry.</p>
<p>Harry has to let him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It hurts. Of course it hurts. Not to be overly dramatic about it, but Harry firmly believes that Louis is his one true love and it hurts when Louis won’t talk to him.</p>
<p>It’s one of the major things they fight about. Most of the time Harry knows that it’s selfish to be so upset when Louis won’t talk to him, and it’s something they’ve spent nearly five years working on - Louis not being able to talk about what’s bothering him and Harry being upset when Louis can’t - but it still hurts.</p>
<p>Harry goes back to the studio, half expecting to find Louis there, yelling demands at everyone in the room, but he’s not. Instead, he finds everyone waiting expectantly, all but huddled together in a corner.</p>
<p>He huffs a laugh and says dully, “Let’s wrap it up for the night. We’ll pick up tomorrow.”</p>
<p>Both Liam and Niall hug him tight for a long time before they leave. Harry appreciates it more than he’ll ever be able to say.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He finds Louis huddled up on a patch of grass outside the studio, well away from any prying eyes, taking a long drag off a cigarette.</p>
<p>Harry’s not really a smoker, definitely not the way Zayn is and not even really the way Louis is, smoking when he’s stressed or angry or at a party, but he still sits down next to Louis and steals the cigarette to take a deep, even drag, collecting his thoughts.</p>
<p>“I’m not sorry,” Harry says eventually, handing the cigarette back over.</p>
<p>Louis takes it with a tiny, unamused snort. “I know you’re not.”</p>
<p>Tentatively, Harry scoots a little closer and wraps an arm around Louis’ waist. “I love you, though.”</p>
<p>“I know that too,” Louis says, tapping the ash off the end of the cigarette, but he leans into Harry’s side anyway.</p>
<p>Harry relaxes a bit, pressing his cheek against the top of Louis’ head. “You’re just a pain in my arse sometimes.”</p>
<p>“You’re a pain in my arse <i>all</i> the time,” Louis retorts, flicking the cigarette away.</p>
<p>“You mean it hurts when you walk?” Harry asks guilelessly.</p>
<p>Louis elbows him half-heartedly. “Fuck off.”</p>
<p>They sit in silence for a few minutes, listening to the soft, serene sounds of the night around them, weak moonlight filtering down over him. It’s nice, peaceful.</p>
<p>“Have you talked to him?” Harry asks after a while. Louis curls in even closer, half in Harry’s lap, face mostly hidden.</p>
<p>“I’m <i>angry</i>,” Louis says, talking to Harry’s chest. “I’m just so fucking angry, and I know I shouldn’t be but I <i>am</i>.”</p>
<p>It’s not a surprise. Louis has been angry for days now, weeks even, and he’s not good at hiding it, short tempered and rude to the people he loves the most, and the only thing Harry wants is for him to talk about it.</p>
<p>He is now, and that’s a good thing. That’s a great thing, even though Harry hurts when Louis hurts. Even more so when it’s something he can’t fix, despite how much he wants to.</p>
<p>“I know,” Harry says, hugging Louis tighter, pulling him father into his lap. He doesn’t have anything else to say, doesn’t need to say anything else. Being here for Louis is enough. It has to be, anyway, because it’s not something Harry can make better. It’ll never be something Harry can make better. The only thing he can do is be here to support Louis while he cries.</p>
<p>And he <i>is</i> crying. Not loud, just soft, subtle tears leaking onto Harry’s shirt. He’s always been an angry crier, Louis, unable to stop himself from letting it out when it’s been building up for this long.</p>
<p>“Sometimes I think I hate him,” Louis confesses, voice still thick with tears. “I just - <i>fuck</i>, I miss him so much.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Harry repeats, sweeping his hand up and down Louis’ back. “Do you wanna call him?”</p>
<p>Louis sniffs, none too subtly wiping his nose on Harry’s shirt. Dick. “No. I want him to call me and tell me that he loves me and that he’s sorry.”</p>
<p>That’s unrealistic, at least for now. One of the biggest things Louis and Zayn have in common is that they both have a hard time being the first to say they’re sorry. They need time to reflect on things before they can even think about apologizing, and there hasn’t been enough of that yet.<br/>Harry has to believe that they’ll get there, though.</p>
<p>“Alright,” he says, closing his eyes, and they listen to the sounds of the night filtering around them for a while, until Louis pushes himself up and leads the way to the car.</p>
<p>It’ll be a while still before things are okay.</p>
<hr/>
<p>It’s been a hard few weeks. They’ve all come to terms with it, but it’s been emotional and there’s no denying that they’ve all been acting differently, treating Zayn differently, like he’s more fragile. Harry knows that he’s guilty of it, and no matter how hard he tries not to, he’s been catching himself doing it.</p>
<p>The shows have been good. There’s no denying that there’s been more happiness on Zayn’s face while he’s performing since he made the decision, and that fact alone makes Harry’s chest ache, that this is something that Zayn needs so much just the <i>decision</i> to do it has already made him happier.</p>
<p>It’s a hotel night, and they have the four rooms like usual, but Harry finished his shower an hour ago and Louis is still nowhere to be seen.</p>
<p>He knows where Louis is, obviously. He’s in the same place he’s been every night since Zayn told them.</p>
<p>Harry wanders down the hall towards Zayn’s room slowly, fingertips trailing over the walls as he walks. Alberto’s watching him as he comes closer, clearly having taken the night shift. Harry waggles his fingers in greeting, and Alberto claps him on the back once as he lets Harry into the room, squeezing a little.</p>
<p>It’s not just the five of them that are affected by this.</p>
<p>Zayn’s awake, sheets pulled up to his waist and shirtless, telly remote balanced on Louis’ bare back. Louis’ face down in Zayn’s chest, cuddled up so close it’s hard to tell that he’s sleeping.</p>
<p>Zayn offers him a quiet smile. “You come for him?” he asks, carding his fingers through Louis’ hair. Louis stirs but doesn’t wake up, mashing his face further into Zayn’s collarbone.</p>
<p>Harry shakes his head and climbs onto the bed on Zayn’s other side. He brushes his fingers over Louis’ bare arm but leaves him be, taking the remote off of his back and flipping through channels idly. “Let’s just chill,” he says, leaning back against the headboard. He settles on a home improvement show on the DIY channel and Zayn doesn’t even complain. He must be tired.</p>
<p>They watch in silence for a few minutes, the volume turned low so it won’t wake Louis. It’s calm and comforting in the way that time with Zayn can be, and Harry can’t think about how much he’ll miss this or he’ll cry.</p>
<p>“You okay?” Zayn ventures on a commercial break, tapping his fingers gently against Harry’s arm.</p>
<p>Harry exhales slowly. It’s not a loaded question, but it is a complex one, and if he’s being honest he’s not really okay. He knows that it’ll work without Zayn, because that’s what Zayn has spent the last month convincing them of, but that doesn’t mean that he wants it to. It’s never going to be the same again.</p>
<p>But Harry would do anything - <i>anything</i> - if it meant that Zayn would be happier, and this isn’t giving up so much as it is letting go.</p>
<p>“I will be,” he says eventually, groping for Zayn’s hand in the blankets and tangling their fingers together. “You?”</p>
<p>“You know what?” Zayn asks, squeezing Harry’s hand. “I think I am. Or I will be, anyway, and I can only imagine how hard that must be for you guys, but I know that this is the right thing to do.”</p>
<p>Harry’s throat is tight. He blinks a little frantically, and Zayn - beautiful, wonderful Zayn - doesn’t mention it. “I love you,” Harry says, because it feels like the only appropriate thing to say.</p>
<p>“Love you, too, bro,” Zayn says easily. He nods down to where Louis is still sleeping, and Harry feels an abrupt rush of love for how heavy a sleeper he is. “Gonna hafta take care of this one for me, though.”</p>
<p>“Always take care of him,” Harry grumbles, a little bit affronted. He pokes Louis in the cheek hard enough that Louis wakes up, slapping at his hand.</p>
<p>“Fuck off,” Louis mumbles, shifting underneath the sheets.</p>
<p>“Don’t I take care of you?” Harry asks, poking him in the cheek again, softer this time.</p>
<p>Louis rolls his eyes. “I take care of you, more like.”</p>
<p>Harry opens his mouth to protest, but Zayn cuts him off, tone both fond and exasperated. “You take care of each other, you idiots.”</p>
<p>They’re both appeased by that. The door clicks open before anyone can say anything else, letting both Liam and Niall into the room before it closes behind them quietly.</p>
<p>“Payno,” Louis calls, stretching a hand out in Liam’s general direction, “don’t I take care of our little Hazza here?”</p>
<p>Or maybe it’s just Harry that’s appeased.</p>
<p>“Yeah, course,” Liam agrees, shuffling up to the bed and jabbing his finger against Louis’ neck, shocking him. Louis swears, trying to hide in Zayn’s arm uselessly.</p>
<p>Niall’s quiet as he curls up on the bed beside Harry, warm against his side. Liam’s talking as he settles onto the mattress beside Louis, but Harry’s not really listening. He’s too busy watching Zayn’s face flickering between emotions so minutely that the only reason Harry can differentiate between them is because he has five years of experience at it.</p>
<p>It’ll be a little bit like missing a phantom limb when Zayn’s gone, Harry thinks, and that’s something that they’ll all have to deal with, but not quite yet. They still have a few more weeks of this, of being together, and they’ll figure out how they’re going to move on once Zayn goes home, but not right now.</p>
<p>Right now they’re going to sleep tangled up together in the same bed like they did when the band first formed, and argue and make fun of each other like they’ve been doing for the last five years, and everything will be okay.</p>
<p>Maybe not right now, and definitely not when they make the announcement, but things will definitely be okay again, and they’re going to get there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Vampires</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These drabbles are all related and exist within the same universe. They may be turned into a full fic at some point.</p>
<p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Vampires<br/>Blood<br/>Blood Drinking<br/>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Alcohol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Contrary to popular belief, a vampire can get drunk off of normal alcohol. It takes a lot more than it takes the average human to get drunk, but it’s possible.</p>
<p>That being said, it’s nothing like getting drunk off of blood alcohol. Alcohol mixed with all types of blood, whatever your preference is, it’s - it’s so good. It’s so tasty and tangy and a little bit sweet and it warms Harry’s belly so nicely.</p>
<p>He’d been drinking sour apple martinis this time around, and you wouldn’t think that sour apples go well with O-Neg, but it turns out that it really fucking does.</p>
<p>By the time Harry stumbles out of Dusk ‘Til Dawn, a popular vampire bar, the sun is bright and high in the sky. He winces, shading his eyes, standing in the middle of the bustling sidewalk, and tries to remember which way is home.</p>
<p>It’s north, he’s pretty sure. Now if he could only figure out which way north is, that’d be great.</p>
<p>His eyes catch on the brightest thing he’s ever seen before he can figure it out, and then all thoughts of home are forgotten. He stumbles forward, supernatural grace all but forgotten, practically tripping over his own feet, eyes fixed on the soft, beautiful thing in front of him, practically begging him to touch.</p>
<p>Ten feet away, the scent of something he can’t even describe invades all of his senses, and the boy is watching him now, a slight frown on his face and muscles tense like he’s thinking about bolting.</p>
<p>Harry’s teeth sharpen just a little in his mouth, threatening to descend into fangs. If the boy runs Harry’s not sure he could stop himself from chasing.</p>
<p>He’s not sure what he’s going to do once he reaches the boy, the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen in his entire life, waiting for the bus at eight o’clock on a Wednesday morning, but it sure isn’t what he actually does, which is trip over his own two feet and go flying, landing in a crumpled heap at the boy’s feet.</p>
<p>“Ow,” Harry says plaintively. He doesn’t try to push himself up from the asphalt. This must be a sign that he’s meant to live right here on this patch of sidewalk for the rest of his life, burning slowly during the day and starving during the night. This must be his punishment for a crime he doesn’t even remember committing.</p>
<p>A foot nudges him in the side. It’s not gentle. Harry rolls over, squinting in the bright sunlight. <br/>The boy’s frowning down at him, pretty little mouth all pursed up. Harry can’t decide whether he wants to kiss it or bite it.</p>
<p>Both. Probably both.</p>
<p>“Y’alright, mate?” the boy asks, voice sweet and lilting. Harry wonders if he’d let him mouth at the spot where his pulse is thrumming in his throat, just for a few minutes. He wouldn’t even bite if the boy didn’t want him to.</p>
<p>“I forgot how to get home,” Harry informs him, spreading his arms out on the pavement. “This is going to be my new home now. Do you take this bus every day?”</p>
<p>The boy blinks. “You forgot how to get home,” he repeats. “Christ, how drunk are you?”</p>
<p>“I was drinking sour apple martinis,” Harry says. “Sour apple tastes so good with O-Neg. Do you like sour apple?”</p>
<p>The boy blinks some more. “O-Neg,” he repeats faintly, and then clears his throat. “Right. Well. You should probably get up off the ground before someone trips over you or you get hit by a car or summat.”</p>
<p>Harry reaches out and fiddles with the boy’s shoelaces, pulling them loose slowly. “I’m Harry,” he says. “What’s your name?”</p>
<p>“Louis,” the boy says. <i>Louis</i>. It suits him. “Are you going to get up now?”</p>
<p>Harry considers this very carefully. “I probably should,” he says mournfully. “I’m burning and I want to go to sleep but I can’t remember how to get home. So I think I should just stay here until I remember.”</p>
<p>“Christ,” Louis mutters. “Well, what’s your address, then?”</p>
<p>Harry considers this very carefully as well. “I don’t remember. What’s your address?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, no,” Louis says. “The last thing I need is some random vamp knowing where I live. That’s not exactly conducive to a safe lifestyle.”</p>
<p>“I would protect you,” Harry says, struggling to sit up. “I wouldn’t even bite you, promise. Not unless you wanted me to.”</p>
<p>“You’re useless,” Louis tells him matter-of-factly, hauling Harry up to his feet. Harry stumbles into him and stops resisting the urge to put his arms around Louis, holding him tight.</p>
<p>“You smell very nice,” Harry says, keeping his teeth a respectable distance away from Louis’ skin. He’s a very respectable vampire and he only bites people when they want him to.</p>
<p>Louis is warm and fits into his arms just right. Harry wonders if he’d let him hold him forever. “Thanks,” Louis says dryly. “Because I just finished work and I’m in a generous mood I’m going to take you to the park and sit you down in some shade so you won’t keep burning. Alright?”</p>
<p>“Yes, please,” Harry says eagerly. He doesn’t let go even as Louis struggles to turn around and then starts marching them forwards, in the direction of what must be the park.</p>
<p>Louis smells very good. Harry wants to sink his fangs into his skin and drink until Louis is a whimpering, pliant mess underneath him, begging for everything Harry can give him, but he’s not going to.</p>
<p>Not yet, at least.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Go away,” Harry groans, pulling a pillow over his face and trying to suffocate himself with it. The beat of Louis’ heart echoes throughout the room, strong and steady.</p>
<p>“I think we both know that’s not going to happen,” Louis says, pulling the pillow off. Harry has the benefit of vampire strength to his advantage, so he could resist if he wanted to, but instead he just doesn’t. Lets Louis pull the pillow off of his face and toss it onto the ground.</p>
<p>Light filters past Harry’s closed eyelids, seeping into places he doesn’t want it. Not that he really wants it anywhere. “I hate you.”</p>
<p>“Alright, you big baby, it’s time to get up,” Louis says firmly, smacking his hand down on Harry’s duvet covered shoulder.</p>
<p>Harry groans and rolls over, trying to escape Louis’ wrath. He’s not very successful. Louis smacks him again, on the back of his shoulder this time, and demands, “Why are you being such a pissbaby about this?”</p>
<p>Unbidden, Harry says, “I’m <i>hungry</i>.”</p>
<p>It’s more than Harry meant to say. It’s true, but he hadn’t meant to say it. Hunger always gets to him like that, though, makes him whiny and sullen, unwilling to co-operate. Even with his own brain.</p>
<p>He’s pretty sure Louis blinks. It takes him a minute to answer, and when he does he sounds cautious. “You want me to bring you something out of the fridge?”</p>
<p>Blood. Does he want Louis to bring him <i>blood</i> out of the fridge.</p>
<p>“There isn’t any,” Harry groans, curling his fingers into his palms and shoving his face farther into the mattress. Now that Louis’ said it Harry can’t stop thinking about it, about the taste of blood.</p>
<p>Blood from the factory tastes muted, sterile. Harry can fix it up, make it taste better, tolerable, but it’ll never taste like the real thing. Not that it’s fake, but. Blood out of a bag? Not that great.<br/>Human blood directly out of someone’s veins, on the other hand? Yeah. That’s. Good. Really good. Tempting.</p>
<p>“What do you mean there isn’t any?” Louis prods, poking at him again. Harry hisses but doesn’t move. “You get your deliveries Mondays and Thursdays. It’s Tuesday. You should have some.”</p>
<p>Great. Now Harry’s irrationally angry again. Awesome. “The factory fucked up my order. Won’t be any until Thursday.”</p>
<p>“What?” Louis asks, incredulous. His hand is still resting on Harry’s shoulder, probably prepared to poke him again, but all Harry can concentrate on is the light thrum of his pulse underneath his skin.</p>
<p>He smells so <i>good</i>. So good. Harry wants to bite him. Just a little, just a taste. That would be enough, just a small taste of Louis’ blood.</p>
<p>Harry isn’t even kidding himself. A small taste would never be enough. Not of Louis.</p>
<p>“The factory fucked up,” Harry repeats with a sigh, rolling over onto his back. Louis isn’t exactly the <i>go away when I ask you to</i> type. “Didn’t send my order, now there’s no more O-Neg and I have to wait until Thursday.”</p>
<p>There’s a pause. “Why didn’t you just ask for something other than O-Neg until then?”</p>
<p>Harry groans, reaching out blindly for the pillow and shoving it over his face. “Stop being all <i>logical</i> at me,” he complains. “It’s too early for this.”</p>
<p>There’s another, longer pause. “It’s two in the afternoon,” Louis points out.</p>
<p>Again with the logic. If Harry wasn’t so fixated on this boy he would have kicked him out of his house a long time ago.</p>
<p>Speaking of kicking him out of his house, actually. Harry pulls the pillow off his face and fixes Louis with a suspicious stare. “How did you even get in here?”</p>
<p>Louis tucks his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels, offering Harry an easy grin. “Broke in, didn’t I.”</p>
<p>Harry’s eyes narrow. “Are you being serious right now?”</p>
<p>Louis only shrugs.</p>
<p>“How did you even - ” Harry cuts himself off. “You know what, I don’t want to know.”</p>
<p>“You left your door unlocked,” Louis offers helpfully. “You should really get better about that.”</p>
<p>Harry groans again, shutting his eyes. It’s much easier to avoid staring at Louis’ jugular with his eyes closed. “I’m a vampire. I don’t need to lock the door,” he mutters.</p>
<p>He can hear when people are in his flat, after all. Although he hadn’t heard Louis until Louis was right in the room beside him. So maybe Harry needs to rethink that theory.</p>
<p>“Yeah, whatever, you big strong vampire, me weak little human,” Louis says, rolling his eyes audibly. “Are you going to get out of bed now?”</p>
<p>In his defense, he had been asleep. So that’s probably why Harry hadn’t heard him. It’s not like Louis is particularly stealthy. Harry has been able to pinpoint his location down to three feet from a quarter mile away since the day they met.</p>
<p>Whoa. That thought had a lot of distances in it.</p>
<p>“No,” Harry says, not even considering it. “I’m gonna wallow in my own misery until my delivery comes. Maybe I’ll get up to light a candle when it starts to smell really rank.”</p>
<p>Louis rips the pillow off of his head, tossing it onto the floor. “Okay, first off, two days is not enough time for you to start smelling that rank. You’re a vampire, you dipshit, it’s like physically impossible for you to smell that bad.”</p>
<p>Well that’s interesting. Harry opens his eyes to ask, “So you think I smell good, then?”</p>
<p>A slight flush works its way over Louis’ cheekbones. Harry watches it, entranced. “I didn’t say that,” Louis says, clearing his throat. “Anyway. It’s time to get up. I wanna go out.”</p>
<p>Where does he even wanna go at two in the afternoon? Maybe if Harry’s lucky he’ll want to go grocery shopping. Human grocery stores are very relaxing, all the combined scents and brightly coloured foods just waiting to be made into a delicious meal.</p>
<p>Not by Louis or for Harry, but still. Harry likes them.</p>
<p>“I wanna go to the skatepark,” Louis announces, tugging at Harry’s hand.</p>
<p>Harry wrinkles his nose, staying as still as he can manage. He hates the skatepark. There’s so many people, so much movement. It’s hard to keep track of where Louis is at any given time, even with the way his scent is permanently branded into Harry’s brain. “I think I might be dying. It’s the lack of blood, you know.”</p>
<p>Louis sighs, and before Harry knows it he has a lap full of warm boy. Louis tugs at his hand again, just to be annoying, Harry knows, but it’s hard to find anything annoying when the best thing he’s ever smelled in his entire life is currently sitting on his hips. “You once told me that you could go five days without needing blood.”</p>
<p>Shit. Why does the boy who is the best smelling boy in the entire world also remember all the things Harry tells him.</p>
<p>His brain insists that it must be fate. Harry’s inclined to believe it.</p>
<p>“Just because I <i>can</i> go five days without blood doesn’t mean that I’m not going to be grumpy about it,” Harry says grumpily.</p>
<p>Louis licks his lips carefully, consideringly. “Well. You could always drink from me?”</p>
<p>Harry’s brain goes blank. Flatlines. Completely dead. He can’t think.</p>
<p>“Harry?” Louis asks, prodding at him. Absently, Harry’s hands come up to grip Louis’ hips, soft give of flesh under his fingers. He still can’t come up with anything to say. “You alive in there?”</p>
<p>Alive. Harry huffs out a laugh, eyes still wide. “I. You. What?”</p>
<p>Drink from Louis. That’s been Harry’s go to fantasy since the second they met and having it offered to him right now is like. Insane.</p>
<p>“Can’t a guy offer to let his vampire boyfriend drink his blood?” Louis asks, flush spreading over his cheeks, down his throat. Harry watches it helplessly because a flush means <i>blood</i>. And Harry will always watch Louis’ blood.</p>
<p>One time Louis nicked himself on a knife while cutting an apple and Harry hadn’t been able to stop staring for ten minutes. The trickle of blood had taken less than two minutes to stop entirely but Harry still hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away.</p>
<p>But. Like. <i>Boyfriend</i>.</p>
<p>It’s not the first time either of them has said it out loud. Hell, it’s not even the fiftieth time either of them has said it out loud, but for all intents and purposes they’ve been taking it slow. Most days the only time they even <i>kiss</i> is when they can’t stand not to anymore. They haven’t had sex. In three months, they haven’t had sex.</p>
<p>It’s not a matter of not wanting to. They both want to. They both want to a lot. But there’s difficulties when a vampire dates a human.</p>
<p>Mostly it’s the blood thing. The blood thing has always been an issue.</p>
<p>“Harry?” Louis asks, hands folded together between his thighs.</p>
<p>Harry just. It’s not that he can’t control himself, because he can - he thinks, anyway - but it’s a big thing. For them, anyway. Louis isn’t just some rando at the blood clubs, someone he can pick up for a fix. This is <i>Louis</i>. Louis has always been more.</p>
<p>“Do you not want to?”</p>
<p>Christ, no. Harry’s hands tighten on Louis’ thighs unconsciously. He wets his lips, somehow manages to get out, “Of course I want to. It’s just. You get that it’s a big thing for me, right?</p>
<p>The flush on Louis deepens, spreads even more. Harry can’t stop looking at him. “I know,” Louis says, fidgeting. Except he’s fidgeting right on top of Harry’s lap and that’s. Yeah. </p>
<p>“It’s sexual,” Harry says abruptly. He wants Louis to understand, needs Louis to understand. “For me. It’s sexual, drinking from someone.”</p>
<p>Louis’ tongue drags across his lower lip again. Harry watches it helplessly. “I think it’ll probably be sexual for me, too.”</p>
<p>Okay, Harry can’t continue to have this conversation with Louis on top of him. He sits up, lifting Louis right off of him despite his indignant squawks, and deposits him in the mess of sheets.</p>
<p>He looks too good there, right at home in Harry’s dark, tangled sheets, like he belongs. He always looks like he belongs in Harry’s flat, no matter where it is. In the kitchen, reaching into the top cupboards for a mug. In the living room, spread out on the entirety of the couch so Harry doesn’t have room to sit down. That one time he left the bathroom door ajar while he showered and Harry had to sit on his hands to resist the urge to nudge it open a little more and watch him.</p>
<p>“I need you to stop saying things like that right now,” Harry says. </p>
<p>Louis shoves himself up onto his knees, fixing Harry with a glare. “Why? Because you think I’m lying?”</p>
<p>No, Harry doesn’t think he’s lying. That’s the problem, that he doesn’t think Louis is lying. Sometimes he can’t resist the urge to drag his fingers over the pulse thrumming in Louis’ neck while he’s half-asleep, slow and just once, and every time he does it Louis just watches him with dark, drooping eyes, head tilted to give Harry more room to work with. So no, Harry doesn’t think he’s lying.</p>
<p>“You - ” Harry starts. He has his answer already mostly worked out in his head, something along the lines of <i>I know you’re not lying, Lou</i>. Very clever, he knows.</p>
<p>Only Louis shoves at his shoulders with both hands, pushing him flat onto his back as he gets the upper hand. “I want you to do it,” he says forcefully, leaning down, right over Harry’s face, until all Harry can see if the throb of his pulse in his throat, hammering hard and fast.</p>
<p>And smell, under his skin. And hear.</p>
<p>God, Harry wants to taste it. It’s not a coincidence that the boy he saw on the street and instantly became infatuated with has Harry’s favourite blood type. It’s very far from a coincidence. </p>
<p>Now he’s much more than infatuated. Harry’s loathe to use the L-word too fast in a relationship, but he thinks that might be where he’s at. Even without the sex or the blood drinking.</p>
<p>“I,” Harry says helplessly, eyes still fixed on it, Louis’ pulse. The thrum of his blood practically calling Harry’s name. “Can’t. We haven’t even talked about where you’d want me to bite you or anything like that.”</p>
<p>Louis sits back up. It’s slow, but he sits up. “The logistics,” he says.</p>
<p>Harry breathes a sigh of - relief. It has to be relief he’s feeling. Because he doesn’t want to throw them into this too fast. “Exactly. The logistics.”</p>
<p>“Right. Well, logistically speaking I want you to bite me wherever you want,” Louis says, flashing him a grin. “Problem solved?”</p>
<p>No. Problem absolutely <i>not</i> solved.</p>
<p>“Anywhere?” Harry presses, back to curling his fingers into his palms so he won’t reach out and touch. “Wrist, neck, elbow? If I wanted to drink from your mouth? Your inner thigh?”</p>
<p>Louis’ eyes go dark the way they do when they’ve been snogging for a while, hot and heavy on the couch. “Inner thigh?” he repeats.</p>
<p>Of course that’s where his mind would go. Of course. </p>
<p>“Focus,” Harry says, snapping his fingers in front of Louis’ face. “You can’t just say <i>anywhere</i> and think that’s it. Do you want to be side by side, under me, on top of me, standing, sitting. What are you going to do if it’s too much for you. How are you going to let me know. What if you don’t like it. What if you <i>do</i> like it. These are all things you have to consider, Louis.”</p>
<p>Louis’ eyes don’t get any less dark. Lighter. That’s probably the word Harry was looking for. “You’re being ridiculous,” Louis tells him, reaching out to drag two fingers over Harry’s parted lips, over his fangs.</p>
<p>Harry hadn’t even realized his fangs had dropped. He needs to get himself under control. Right now. He needs to get himself under control right now.</p>
<p>“I trust you,” Louis continues, pressing the pad of one fingertip firmly against Harry’s fang. “I trust you to stop if I ask you to or if you think you should. I trust you to make me comfortable. I trust you not to drain me.”</p>
<p>There’s a slight give as Louis keeps pressing, the skin of his finger splitting apart against the sharpness of Harry’s fang. The second the scent of his blood hits the air Harry groans, deep and unthinking, and can’t manage to close his mouth.</p>
<p>Blood trickles in slowly, so fucking slowly, warm and thin. He tastes. He tastes like everything Harry wants.</p>
<p>It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough, those few drops. Harry grabs Louis’ wrist, sucking his finger into his mouth, cleaning off the blood entirely before letting it go.</p>
<p>“I want it,” Louis says clearly, before Harry even has a chance to get a single word out. “I want you to drink from me, Harry, and I want everything that comes with that. I want to move onto the next step in our relationship. I’m ready for it.”</p>
<p>Harry stares up at him. Louis stares down. It’s still for a minute, silent.</p>
<p>Then Harry moves.</p>
<p>In the span of two seconds, he’s got Louis underneath him on the bed, head at the foot of it, on top of him. “You’re so good to me,” he murmurs, hushed. Louis chews on the corner of his lip, pleased. “Gonna bite you here, okay?”</p>
<p>To illustrate, he puts two fingers against the thrum of Louis’ pulse in his throat, pressing lightly. Louis nods slowly, swallowing. “Yeah,” he whispers, clearly recognizing Harry’s need for verbal consent.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry whispers back. “Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?” He ducks down, laves a thick stripe over the spot he intends to bite with his tongue, wetting it.</p>
<p>Louis shivers. Harry can’t wait anymore, doesn’t want to wait anymore, so he sinks his teeth in, breaking the skin. Blood gushes out onto his tongue, down his throat, and Harry.</p>
<p>Harry drinks.</p>
<p>“God,” Louis sighs, thighs parting underneath Harry, making room for him in between them. “’m hard.”</p>
<p>Harry can feel it, the stiff press of Louis’ cock against his belly despite the layers between them. It’s encouraging, addicting. Harry sucks harder, almost drunk on the taste of Louis’ blood, his own cock firm and thick in his pants, begging for release.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know how much time passes, Louis’ blood sliding thick and warm on his tongue, pressing his hips against the bed. The only thing that would make this better is actual sex, being inside Louis and having Louis’ blood inside of him.</p>
<p>“Feels so good,” Louis murmurs, petting Harry’s hair with a shaky hand. “Harry. You make me feel good.”</p>
<p>Harry hums into Louis’ skin, nearly full, and shifts his weight.</p>
<p>He’s not expecting Louis’ noises to go high and whimpery, and he’s definitely not expecting Louis to rock his hips up against Harry’s belly and come.</p>
<p>Just from Harry’s fangs buried in his throat.</p>
<p>Harry’s done anyway. He pulls his teeth out of Louis’ skin, licking at the mark to help it close up, and looks at him. Really looks at him.</p>
<p>Louis’ face is flushed and happy, eyes mostly closed, teeth marks in his own lip. Harry can’t help it, pressing his own palm against the fly of his pants, rubbing himself firmly, and that’s all it takes to get himself off, come soaking the fabric.</p>
<p>“You’re so good,” Harry slurs, fangs still dropped. He presses down against Louis’ chest as he tries to rise, meets him halfway, and kisses him with his fangs still out, pricking Louis’ mouth. It’s messy and bloody and gross but Louis kisses him back, threading his fingers through Harry’s hair.</p>
<p>It’s. Yeah. It’s everything Harry dreamed it would be.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Lou,” Harry says. It’s only a little pathetic, which is something, especially considering how <i>hungry</i> Harry is right now.</p>
<p>“What?” Louis asks, tone flat. He stirs the pan, and Harry doesn’t even <i>eat</i> human food but he can smell how bad it smells, and it’s not even due to the garlic - Louis is just a truly awful cook. If he had have asked Harry would’ve made him some pancakes or something.</p>
<p>“How long are you going to be mad at me for?”</p>
<p>Louis looks like he’s considering it, staring at his hand, weighed down with at least ten silver rings. He’s doing a great job at making Harry’s head ache. “Dunno. How long are you going to be a dick for?”</p>
<p>Frustrating is a good word to sum up this relationship. “All I did was order more O-Neg.”</p>
<p>Louis whirls around and throws the spatula at Harry’s face. Harry manages to dodge it, but only because he’s got vampiric reflexes. “<i>I’m</i> O-Neg, you fucking prick!”</p>
<p>Well, duh. “Yeah? Why do you think I ordered it?”</p>
<p>Louis crosses the room and jabs a finger against Harry’s chest. Harry’s skin stings a little, from the brush of the silver. “You’re a fucking twat,” he shouts, slapping at Harry’s shoulder with his full hand. “Why the fuck would you go and order blood when I’m literally standing right in front of you?”</p>
<p>God. Harry catches Louis’ hands in his own, ignoring the slight sizzle. “I can’t drink from you all the time.”</p>
<p>“Yes you can,” Louis says immediately. “Plenty of other vampires drink solely from their mates. It’s why you have fucking healing saliva, you idiot!”</p>
<p><i>Mates</i>. Louis thinks that they’re - oh, Harry’s fucked up so badly. “You didn’t tell me,” he says weakly.</p>
<p>Louis’ watching him. “Tell you that I would punch you in the dick if I found out that you’re drinking from someone other than me?” he asks. “Or that you’re the person I want to spend the rest of my life with?”</p>
<p>Harry swallows. The pulse of Louis’ blood running through his body is echoing through Harry’s head, calling him like an invitation. “The second one.”</p>
<p>“Thought you would have figured it out by now,” Louis shrugs, the material of his shirt slipping down off of his shoulder, leaving it bare. It would hardly take any work at all to get him naked.</p>
<p>“It’s hard to figure something out that someone doesn’t tell you,” Harry says nonsensically, letting go of one of Louis’ hands to pull his shirt down a little more, exposing tanned flesh that Harry wants to bite. He barely even notices the sting of the silver, anymore, or the scent of the garlic in the air.</p>
<p>“Okay, well let me put it to you this way,” Louis says, pulling the rings off one at a time and letting them drop down in between their feet, “if you go and cancel that order I’ll let you wake me up in the morning with your teeth buried in my thigh.”</p>
<p>Louis’ thigh is Harry’s favourite spot to drink from - the thin skin of his inner thigh, just underneath his cock - and Louis knows it. Taunts Harry with it, sometimes, with the bruise Harry’s mouth has left there, rubbing at it and making this entirely too pleased face when there’s no way Harry can do anything about it, when they’re in public.</p>
<p>“What about right now?” Harry manages, letting his fingers drift over Louis’ hands, unable to stop himself, really, now that they’re silver-free.</p>
<p>“Right now?” Louis asks, tilting his head up like he’s thinking. “If you make that phone call I’ll let you fuck me up against the wall like you like.”</p>
<p>Harry’s a vampire, so he moves pretty fast, but he doesn’t think that he’s ever moved faster than this in his life.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Harry’s head is pounding. He hasn’t had a hangover this bad in ages. Even lying motionless in his bed isn’t doing much to keep it at bay. His entire body is sore, and he only remembers the night before in bits and pieces, little snippets of people and conversations flashing through his brain with an accompanying throb.</p>
<p>“It’s almost like she was intentionally ignoring me,” Louis is saying. His knee is warm where it’s pressed against Harry’s side, and he’s been talking for at least ten minutes despite the fact that Harry’s given him no indication that he’s even awake.</p>
<p>From the bits Harry has been conscious enough to catch, it sounds like a fairly interesting story. One he would be happy to listen to under normal circumstances.</p>
<p>“Please,” he groans into the pillow, flapping a hand in what he thinks is Louis’ general direction. “Shh.”</p>
<p>There’s a second of silence before Louis picks up his story again with, “Anyway, I obviously had to do something drastic to make sure I had her attention, right? So I got my airhorn – ”</p>
<p>“Baby,” Harry whimpers, closing his fingers around air and trying again, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but can you shut up for five minutes, please?”</p>
<p>Louis slaps a hand down against Harry’s bare back. Until now, Harry hadn’t even realized that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He wonders vaguely whether he’s completely naked or if he’s got pants on. “Ow,” he says, letting his hand flop down to the mattress and burying his face back into the pillow.</p>
<p>“Is there any way to take that but the wrong way?” Louis demands. “Also, now that you’re awake, can you make me pancakes?”</p>
<p>If Harry had two functioning brain cells left to rub together, he probably would have realized a lot earlier that this entire conversation was definitely a ploy to get him up.</p>
<p>“I can’t,” he moans, flinching a little when Louis’ hand comes down on his back again, gentler this time, rubbing. Louis being gentle doesn’t usually bode well for anybody. “I can’t feel my legs.”</p>
<p>It’s not that much of a lie. He can’t feel his toes, but he can feel it when Louis yanks a leg hair out. He forces himself to stay still through it, despite the way his fangs are threatening to pierce his gums from the sensation.</p>
<p>“You can only pull this whole woe is me act after drinking so many times, you know,” Louis informs him. Harry is stuck between coming up with a retort and pretending to have fallen back asleep when the smell hits him.</p>
<p>He’s rolling over before he even knows what he’s doing, knocking the sheets all the way off. Louis is sitting cross-legged on his side of the bed, a few droplets of blood welling up on the pad of his thumb.</p>
<p>“Whoops,” Louis says flatly. “I seem to have nicked myself.”</p>
<p>There’s a Swiss Army knife sitting on the bedside table. Louis hasn’t even made a token attempt to hide it. His expression doesn’t even flicker as Harry’s gaze slides between the knife and his face.</p>
<p>Harry’s fangs are fully descended. “You’re terrible,” he says around them. As much as he tells himself that it’s easier dealing with the scent of Louis’ blood after six months, it’s really not. He smells it and he wants it, and Louis knows that.</p>
<p>Louis is also completely shameless about using it against him.</p>
<p>“Pancakes,” Louis tells him firmly. “Then you can drink as much as you want. From anywhere you want.”</p>
<p>Well. Pancakes it is, then.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Louis loves cereal. He especially loves the really sweet, sugary kids cereal that Harry always makes a face at but secretly likes the second hand taste of when it’s in Louis’ blood.</p>
<p>Everyone likes cereal. It’s like a rule or something.</p>
<p>Anyway. The point is that cereal is awesome and Harry staring at him without blinking is hindering Louis’ ability to enjoy it.</p>
<p>“You know, if you’re hungry again you can just ask,” Louis points out, keeping his tone mild. The cereal is looking less appetizing by the minute.</p>
<p>“I’m not hungry,” Harry denies.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t scoff, despite how much he wants to, and eats another mouthful of cereal. It’s gone soggy and a little warm. “Why’re you staring at my jugular then?”</p>
<p>“I’m not,” Harry denies again, much more weakly this time. Louis bites back a smile. He knows exactly how to deal with Harry when he’s like this, a little bit hungry but mostly horny.</p>
<p>“Really?” Louis asks, letting his head tilt back farther, all too aware of the way Harry’s eyes zoom to his pulse point, fluttering beneath his skin. “So you don’t want to have a little taste?”</p>
<p>Harry’s so predictable. He licks his lips, still staring, and asks, “Are you offering?”</p>
<p>No. Louis isn’t offering until Harry says what he needs to say. “No. Not until you admit that you’ve been making your creepy hungry face.”</p>
<p>Once Harry admits that he’s been making the creepy hungry face they can move on to things that are more fun. Louis is exactly petulant enough to refuse until Harry does.</p>
<p>There’s a formula for keeping Harry wrapped around his little finger, after all, and it mostly involves shutting him down until Harry does what he wants him to.</p>
<p>“It’s not creepy,” Harry protests.</p>
<p>It’s very creepy. Harry is just lucky that Louis is used to it.</p>
<p>It’s also a little bit sweet but good luck prying that little tidbit of information out of Louis.</p>
<p>“It’s creepy,” Louis assures him, letting his spoon clatter down into his bowl, finally empty. He’d only had a small serving, which is probably a good thing. Wouldn’t want to get food pains with what’s about to come.</p>
<p>Literally.</p>
<p>“You’re so pretty,” Harry says abruptly. He’s trying to hide the fact that his fangs are descending from his gums but he’s forgetting the fact that Louis sees right through him.</p>
<p>Still, though. “You trying to sweeten me up?” He slouches back in his chair, taking Harry’s gaze with him, and if his thighs spread just the tiniest bit more from the heat of Harry’s gaze that’s no one’s business but Louis’.</p>
<p>And maybe Harry’s, but Harry’s too busy thinking about the taste of Louis’ blood to realize that.</p>
<p>“I’ve been making my creepy hungry face,” Harry says, giving in much more easily than Louis had been expecting. His fingers curl into his palms, clearly trying to keep himself in check.</p>
<p>Louis wouldn’t be sitting here right now if he wanted Harry to keep himself in check.</p>
<p>“You have,” he says, pushing himself up out of his chair and straddling Harry’s lap easily. “The first time I caught you looking at me like that I thought that my heart was going to beat right out of my chest, you know.”</p>
<p>Harry feels good underneath him, all strong muscles and tightly coiled tension, holding himself in check, hands on Louis’ thighs.</p>
<p>The last thing Louis wants is for him to hold himself in check.</p>
<p>“Were you scared?” Harry asks, stroking Louis’ thighs slowly.</p>
<p>As if Louis could ever be scared of Harry. He’s a vampire but he’s Louis’ vampire, and he’s been Louis’ vampire since the very first second they met. “Of you?” Louis asks, flicking Harry’s chest. “No. Of how much I wanted you to bite me? Maybe a little.”</p>
<p>“You should have been scared of me,” Harry says, gripping Louis tighter. His cock is hard underneath Louis’ arse. “Big scary thing in the dark. I could have done anything to you.”</p>
<p>What<i>ever</i>. “You tripped over your own two feet and then begged me to help you find your way home,” Louis says indignantly, flicking him again. “And it was broad daylight. You didn’t exactly make an intimidating picture, drunk off your arse. You’re lucky that I didn’t leave you in the middle of the street to get run over by a car.”</p>
<p>He’d tripped over his own two feet because he’d been too busy staring at Louis’ face. Louis is pretty sure that he hasn’t seen anything more pathetic in his entire life.</p>
<p>“I would have followed you,” Harry says, eyes fixed on Louis’ face even now. “All the way home, probably, and then you would have never been able to get rid of me. You already smelled like - “</p>
<p>He cuts himself off. Louis’ heart rate picks up, cock leaking steadily in his pants. He wants Harry <br/>in him and he wants Harry in him in the next five minutes.</p>
<p>“Like what?” Louis demands. “I’ll let you drink if you say it.”</p>
<p>“Like food and sex and home,” Harry says immediately, and that’s all Louis needs to hear.</p>
<p>“Take me to bed,” he demands, squeezing Harry’s hips with his thighs, trying to get him moving. “Take me to bed, take me to bed, take me to bed.”</p>
<p>His back hits the mattress and he bounces once before he’s pinned there by Harry’s weight, both of them struggling to get each other completely naked. Louis kicks him in the face as he tries to fling his shorts off with his toes, but none of that even matters because Harry’s biting him.</p>
<p>His teeth pierce the thin skin of Louis’ inner thigh easily, fangs sinking in deep. Louis arches underneath him, fingers flying to the back of Harry’s head and holding on immediately. He can’t feel the blood seeping out of him, exactly. It’s more like a slow, gentle pull, foggy and disorienting and a little bit achy, but only in the good way.</p>
<p>His body responds to the needs of Harry’s by getting needier itself, and if it was anyone else Louis would probably hate that. Hate that he responds like this.</p>
<p>It is Harry, though, and it’s never going to be anyone but Harry.</p>
<p>“I’m your life source,” Louis says, still dazed. He cradles Harry’s head in his hands, lets him do what he wants. Louis has never - not even once - been worried that he’ll drain him dry. If Harry did that he’d be inconsolable for days and then - Louis has no doubt that he’d let himself die.</p>
<p>“You are,” Harry mumbles. “Your blood keeps me alive.”</p>
<p>Louis twists on the sheets, blinking up at the ceiling. His cock is hard and ready against Harry’s cheek. The urge to rub against Harry’s skin is overwhelming, but before Louis can give in to it Harry pulls off, fangs slipping back into his gums easily, licking his lips and chasing away the faint hint of blood.</p>
<p>“You’re mine,” Harry says, pushing up and settling on Louis properly, sealing their mouths together. The taste of blood in his mouth is faint. Louis barely even notices it anymore. “How does that feel, knowing that I could break you so easily and that the only thing stopping me from doing that is the call of your blood?”</p>
<p>In theory Harry could kill him. In theory Harry could also refrain from fucking him.</p>
<p>Needless to say, Louis isn’t too worried about it.</p>
<p>“Love you,” Louis says, practically slurring it out as Harry presses two fingers inside of him at the same time, so sure that Louis can take it, “but we both know that if one of us is going to break the other it definitely wouldn’t be you.”</p>
<p>“Vampires don’t bend, even if it is to their mates,” Harry says, slipping a third finger in and scissoring them quickly, brushing against Louis’ prostate.</p>
<p>Maybe other vampires don’t bend. “This one does,” Louis says, letting his head fall back onto the pillows and wrapping a leg around Harry’s back, getting them into proper position. “This one is wrapped around his mate’s little finger and he knows that admitting it is the only way he’s going to get laid.”</p>
<p>Louis can probably hold out until Harry admits it. It’ll be hard - literally - but he can do it.</p>
<p>“You’re my mate,” Harry murmurs, taking his fingers out. “And I would do <i>anything</i> for you.”</p>
<p>Louis purses his lips and considers this. It’s not exactly what he was asking for. “Anything like what?”</p>
<p>Harry’s face is pretty expressive, and Louis is fucking excellent at reading him. He’s about five seconds from cracking.</p>
<p>“I would let you put a stake through me,” he says, hushed. Louis’ cock gets impossibly harder. “If it was my life or yours I would pick yours every time.”</p>
<p>Fuck. That’s exactly what Louis was aiming for. “It’s a good thing that you don’t have to, then, isn’t it?” he asks, reaching down and guiding Harry’s cock to his hole blindly, straining up for a kiss at the same time.</p>
<p>Harry wastes no time letting his fangs out to play, pricking Louis’ bottom lip and drawing out little drops of blood, and it’s more licking than it is a proper kiss but neither of them mind, lost in the feeling of each other for way longer than should be acceptable.</p>
<p>Vampires, though. That’s been Louis’ excuse for the past two and a half years and he imagines that it’s been Harry’s excuse his entire life. Louis can’t stop himself from making noise, tiny little ones that don’t mean anything, breathing into Harry’s mouth quickly as Harry pushes in and in and in, giving him all the cock he could ever want.</p>
<p>“You’re mine,” Harry repeats, slurring the words. He’s moving slower than he normally does, probably too focused on the taste of Louis’ blood on his tongue, on the fact that the blood that’s flowing through both of them has the same source. “You’re mine and you’re always going to be mine.”</p>
<p>He pulls up onto his knees, readjusting Louis’ position and sinks in all the way, filling Louis up completely. There’s nowhere for him to go, caught between Harry’s teeth and his cock. No escape.</p>
<p>Louis hasn’t ever wanted to escape.</p>
<p>“I am,” he agrees, breath caught in his throat. Harry noses his way down his jaw, his throat, just the tiniest hint of teeth threatening to break the skin. “I am, but you’re mine just as much as I’m yours.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t need Harry to agree - knows that it’s true no matter what Harry says, but Harry’s soft agreement of, “More,” has him flushing, what’s left of his blood split between his face and his cock.</p>
<p>Then he has even less blood left in his body because Harry’s biting him again, right over his jugular as he starts moving, slow and deep and consistent, hitting all of the right spots every time.</p>
<p>Harry’s told him that he’s never really all there when they’re having sex and he’s drinking. It must be a thing that’s passed on to the person a vampire drinks from - Louis is never really all there, either. He can hear himself, but only softly. He feels like he’s liquid, seeping down into the mattress, and the only thing he wants is for this feeling to never stop.</p>
<p>Until Harry wraps a hand around his cock, that is. Then the only thing Louis wants is to come, full of Harry’s cock and being snacked on by his vampire mate.</p>
<p>“Vampire,” Louis says, gripping tight to the back of Harry’s head. “Vampire mate.”</p>
<p>Harry fucks him harder, pulling at his cock exactly the way he likes, teeth still buried in his throat, and it’s everything Louis wants. He comes easily, back arching and twisting in Harry’s hands, getting them both messy.</p>
<p>“Baby,” Harry says, thrusting a couple more times before he comes, deep and warm inside of Louis’ body. He keeps lapping at the blood seeping out of the wound, lost in it.</p>
<p>It’s a few minutes before either of them are coherent enough to get themselves separated and maybe start cleaning up. Harry’s gentle as he slips out and lets Louis’ legs down, making sure to lick at the wound until the edges start to close, heal.</p>
<p>“Pretty little mate,” he murmurs, clearly satisfied with himself. “Never let anyone hurt you.” He pulls Louis into his arms just as carefully, and Louis appreciates that. He’s not sure that he can move beyond a twitch of his fingers.</p>
<p>Sex like that always makes him sleepy, and he’s having a hard time keeping his eyes open as Harry arranges them into a nice sleeping position.</p>
<p>“Take good care of me,” Louis tells him. He’s sure that Harry knows.</p>
<p>“Not as good as you do to me,” Harry says, and it’s warm and pleasing and Louis is a little blood thin, so he sleeps instead of answering.</p>
<p>Vampires. That’s Louis’ excuse.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The hardest thing about being a vampire is the way his body has equated food with sex, ever since he hit puberty. It made for some pretty awkward times in secondary school, but Harry is past that now. Luckily.</p>
<p>At the same time, though, it’s almost like his body does it more, now that there’s Louis. It’s bad enough just with how Louis looks - like sex and home and everything Harry’s ever wanted wrapped up in one perfect little package - and it only took one time for Harry’s body to crave him the way he craves the dark.</p>
<p><i>One fucking time</i>. A little bit of Louis’ blood spilling across his tongue one time and Harry was hooked for life, and that was before the sex.</p>
<p>Oh god, the sex. Harry fed six hours ago, and it was brief but it should still be enough to last him well into the morning, but just thinking about the sex has Harry wanting.</p>
<p>Craving.</p>
<p>His mum always slaps him round the head and scolds him for freaking out the humans with his staring, and Harry’s gotten better over the years but he’s never been able to control it around Louis, especially not when Louis is sitting shirtless in his kitchen eating cereal.</p>
<p>“You know, if you’re hungry again you can just ask,” Louis says mildly, not looking up from his bowl.</p>
<p>“I’m not hungry,” Harry denies.</p>
<p>Louis shovels another mouthful of cereal in. “Why’re you staring at my jugular then?”</p>
<p>“I’m not,” Harry says, much more weakly.</p>
<p>“Really?” Louis asks, tilting his head farther, exposing the flutter of his pulse, thrumming underneath his skin. “So you don’t want to have a little taste?”</p>
<p>Harry wets his lips. “Are you offering?”</p>
<p>“No,” Louis says, finishing off the last of his cereal. “Not until you admit that you’ve been making your creepy hungry face.”</p>
<p>“It’s not creepy,” Harry says indignantly. He can’t help it if he gets hungry while Louis is being all provocative and eating cereal like he’s in a commercial for sexy cereal or something.</p>
<p>A weird sexy cereal commercial with like bears or something. That could work, right?</p>
<p>“It’s creepy,” Louis says matter-of-factly, letting his spoon clang into the bowl. He’d probably taste sugary, sweet, if Harry were to feed right now.</p>
<p>His fangs lengthen a little as he thinks about it. He’s had years of experience talking around them, though, so he masks it and says, “You’re so pretty.”</p>
<p>Well. Maybe it’s more like he blurts it out. But he doesn’t slur it, so that has to count for something.</p>
<p>“You trying to sweeten me up?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow. He slouches back in his chair, putting himself on display, and Harry can’t take much more of it.</p>
<p>He is hungry. He’s hungry and turned on and he wants the taste of Louis’ blood in his mouth as he fucks into him, watching the way he writhes on the mattress underneath him. “I’ve been making my creepy hungry face,” he says, curling his fingers into his palms so he won’t reach out and touch.</p>
<p>Take. He’s Harry’s to take and Harry wants to take him.</p>
<p>“You have,” Louis agrees, and pushes himself up out of his chair, taking the two steps necessary to straddle Harry’s lap. “The first time I caught you looking at me like that I thought that my heart was going to beat right out of my chest, you know.”</p>
<p>Harry’s powerless to resist the urge to put his hands on Louis’ bare skin, sliding up underneath the hem of his pants. He’s so warm and lovely and he made a promise to keep letting Harry touch him like this for the rest of their lives. “Were you scared?”</p>
<p>Louis raises an eyebrow and flicks Harry’s chest. “Of you? No. Of how much I wanted you to bite me? Maybe a little.”</p>
<p>“You should have been scared of me,” Harry says, even though it’ll probably get him nowhere in the food-and-sex plan. He has to maintain his pride, after all. “Big scary thing in the dark. I could have done anything to you.”</p>
<p>“You tripped over your own two feet and then begged me to help you find your way home,” Louis snorts, flicking him again. “And it was broad daylight. You didn’t exactly make an intimidating picture, drunk off your arse. You’re lucky that I didn’t leave you in the middle of the street to get run over by a car.”</p>
<p>“I would have followed you,” Harry says honestly. Hopefully honesty will get him a little closer to the food-and-sex plan. “All the way home, probably, and then you would have never been able to get rid of me. You already smelled like - “</p>
<p>He stops abruptly. He can hear the beat of Louis’ pulse picking up, a surefire way of knowing that he’s turned on. “Like what?” Louis demands. “I’ll let you drink if you say it.”</p>
<p>Like Harry’s capable of holding it in even without the promise of Louis’ blood spilling hot over his tongue. “Like food and sex and home,” Harry says, because that’s what Louis has always smelled like. Food and sex and home and no amount of exposure will get him out from underneath Harry’s skin. </p>
<p>For better or worse, they’re bound together.</p>
<p>“Take me to bed,” Louis demands abruptly, thigh muscles tightening beneath Harry’s hands. “Take me to bed,” he repeats, three more times before Harry reaches the bedroom and tosses him down onto the mattress, not even giving him a second to settle in before he’s pulling his pants down, leaving him exposed to the chill in the air, nipples already perking up.</p>
<p>There’s no use pretending that he’s not going to go for the thigh. He tries to give Louis a break sometimes, drinking from his neck or his wrist instead, but it’s been three days since he’s used this spot and he thinks he’s earned it.</p>
<p>His teeth pierce the thin skin easily, blood seeping out onto his tongue, slow at first and then faster as his fangs sink deeper. Louis is loose and languid underneath his hands, fingers resting lightly on the back of Harry’s head. “I’m your life source,” Louis says, dazed.</p>
<p>Blood trickles down Harry’s throat, warm and sweet, a little sugary from the cereal. Underneath all of that Louis tastes like vanilla, the base of his scent, and it’s so intoxicating that Harry’s head swims.</p>
<p>“You are,” Harry mumbles, mouth still full of flesh and blood. He could drain Louis dry, become what people are so scared of, but then he wouldn’t have Louis and that is just unacceptable. “Your blood keeps me alive.”</p>
<p>Louis’ cock is hard against his cheek, and Harry’s not full, exactly, but he can finish eating later. His fangs sink back into his gums easily. The taste of Louis’ blood lingers on his lips, and he can’t stop himself from licking at it reflexively as he pushes himself up to drape over Louis properly. “You’re mine,” he murmurs into Louis’ mouth, slicking his fingers with lube. “How does that feel, knowing that I could break you so easily and that the only thing stopping me from doing that is the call of your blood?”</p>
<p>Drinking from him always makes Louis malleable and easy. He’s nearly the textbook definition of a blood slave, someone who enjoys it almost more than the vampire, but he’s also Harry’s sassy little mate and he never lets Harry forget it.</p>
<p>“Love you,” Louis murmurs, sighing it out as Harry presses two slick fingers into him, slipping inside easily because it’s been less than two hours since the last time, “but we both know that if one of us is going to break the other it definitely wouldn’t be you.”</p>
<p>No. The only way Harry would be capable of breaking Louis is through sex, and Louis has always let Harry bend him. “Vampires don’t bend, even if it is to their mates,” Harry says, putting a third finger in and wiggling them just enough that Louis is stretched enough.</p>
<p>“This one does,” Louis shoots back, wrapping one of his legs around Harry’s back and helping him line them up. “This one is wrapped around his mate’s little finger and he knows that admitting it is the only way he’s going to get laid.”</p>
<p>An ultimatum. They really are the perfect match. “You’re my mate,” Harry murmurs, taking his fingers out. “And I would do <i>anything</i> for you.”</p>
<p>Louis purses his lips, considering. “Anything like what?” he asks eventually, and if Harry were to start pushing in he wouldn’t stop him.</p>
<p>Harry’s food-sex-home thing would totally be ruined, though, so he doesn’t give it a second thought. “I would let you put a stake through me,” he says, because it’s true and he would and he’s pretty sure that Louis knows it. “If it was my life or yours I would pick yours every time.”</p>
<p>“It’s a good thing that you don’t have to, then, isn’t it?” Louis asks, wrapping his fingers around Harry’s cock and guiding it to his hole blindly, drawing Harry down for a kiss. He’s tight and slick and warm inside, and it’s not a surprise because he always is, but Harry’s fangs are descending from his gums anyway, pricking Louis’ soft bottom lip.</p>
<p>The kiss turns messy, pinpricks of blood welling up against Harry’s tongue, and it’s hard to kiss through elongated teeth but Harry manages. Louis makes a hitched, breathy noise, and it’s impossible to tell whether it’s from Harry’s cock or from his teeth. It’s all the same, though, blood and sex and food and home and all of it comes back to Louis.</p>
<p>Everything is Louis.</p>
<p>“You’re mine,” Harry repeats, slurring it out through his teeth as he pushes in and in and in, time moving at a fraction of its normal pace, overwhelmed with blood and sex and the way Louis’ arse feels, gripping his cock, pulling him in. Welcoming him in. “You’re mine and you’re always going to be mine,” as he draws up, taking Louis with him, changing the angle to something deep and heady as he sinks the rest of the way in.</p>
<p>“I am,” Louis agrees breathlessly, head tipping back in a way that makes it impossible for Harry not to slip down and lick at the vein in his throat, following the pulse of blood underneath his skin. “I am, but you’re mine just as much as I’m yours.”</p>
<p>“More,” Harry murmurs, and he’s answering Louis’ statement, but <i>more</i> sounds so fucking good that he has to bite, has to break the skin and drink, moving slow and steady in a way that never fails to have Louis moaning in less than twenty seconds.</p>
<p>The thing about drinking from your mate as you’re having sex with them is that any sense of time gets completely lost, turning liquidy in the same way that Louis’ blood is. He knows that he’s making Louis feel good - can hear that above anything else, everything else, the way Louis sounds - but multi-tasking has never been Harry’s strong suit, and multi-tasking while he’s drinking is next to impossible.</p>
<p>Somehow he manages to get a hand curled around Louis’ cock, but it’s probably only because the tiny part of his brain that’s still rational remembers that there’s no way Louis is capable of jerking himself off when Harry’s got his fangs buried in his throat and his cock buried in his arse. Louis could get off without - has gotten off without - but it would take longer, and the same instinct that tells Harry that Louis is the one wouldn’t let him come before Louis does.</p>
<p>“Vampire,” Louis says nonsensically, gripping the back of Harry’s head. “Vampire mate.”</p>
<p>It’s not clear whether Louis is saying that he’s Harry’s mate or that Harry is a vampire and they also happen to be mates, but either way he’s right, so Harry fucks him a little harder, wanks him a little quicker, and is rewarded with his come, spurting all over his fingers.</p>
<p>“Baby,” Harry slurs out, and follows him, orgasm warring with the taste of Louis’ blood for attention.</p>
<p>Harry’s blood high by the time he retracts his fangs and pushes himself up, swiping lazily at his mouth and licking stray droplets off his fingers. He pulls out carefully, letting Louis’ legs slip down his sides and onto the mattress, and licks over the two bite marks carefully, until they’re starting to close.</p>
<p>“Pretty little mate,” Harry says, belly full and the scent of sex lingering in the air. “Never let anyone hurt you.” He pulls Louis into his arms gingerly, trying not to jostle him.</p>
<p>Louis snuffles into his chest, eyes barely open. Food-sex-home always makes him sleepy, cuddly, and Harry’s a vampire so he’s not exactly the warmest thing in the world but Louis never seems to care, curling up against him every time. “Take good care of me.”</p>
<p>“Not as good as you do to me,” Harry says, and maybe Louis means to argue, because that’s what Louis does, but he falls asleep instead, mouth open. Harry can still smell the slightest trace of blood on his lip from where his teeth pricked him, and he’ll get to that in a few minutes, but for now he just dozes, content with his mate in his arms.</p>
<p>Food-sex-home. Everything good in Harry’s life is in his arms.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Werewolves AU Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Werewolves<br/>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Violence<br/>Weapons<br/>Violent Relationship</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Louis comes to slowly, head still swimming a little. His eyebrow itches, but he ignores it, flexing his fingers above his head. It’s nylon this time, the rope, and Louis spares a minute to be grateful for that. Small mercies and all.</p>
<p>He doesn’t have to look around to pinpoint exactly where Harry is in the room. “You drugged me,” he says dully.</p>
<p>“Mm. And I only touched you a little bit while you were unconscious,” Harry says. Louis stays perfectly still. He’s pretty sure that he’s on a bed. The mattress is lumpy, but it’s better than nothing. He’s got enough slack in the rope that he could probably sit up if he wanted to, but his head is still a little tender, so he stays where he is.</p>
<p>Harry creeps closer, so quiet on his feet that Louis almost doesn’t hear him coming until he’s right next to the bed. “Don’t be mad,” Harry says pleadingly, and Louis might have fallen for that at the beginning, but he knows better now.</p>
<p>“You <i>drugged me</i>,” Louis repeats. Harry’s hands come up to ruck Louis’ shirt up his belly.</p>
<p>“It was just a little,” Harry says. He’s breathing dangerously close to Louis’ stomach. Louis does his best to ignore it.</p>
<p>“You can’t drug someone <i>just a little</i>, Harry,” Louis says sharply. “Either you do it or you don’t, there’s no in between.” He means to say something else, try to force Harry to untie him, but Harry chooses that moment to sink his teeth into Louis’ stomach.</p>
<p>Louis jerks, hips coming up off the bed. Harry shoves them back down and keeps biting until he’s satisfied with the mark he’s left. “Just a tiny little pinprick in the back of your neck and you were in my arms,” Harry croons into Louis’ belly. “In my arms and mine, all mine.” He bites down again, lower this time, where Louis’ thigh meets his hip.</p>
<p>Louis wiggles his fingers and starts attempting to undo the knots. “Or all you all mine?” Harry asks suddenly, darkly. Louis instantly stills.</p>
<p>“Harry, come here and kiss me, yeah?” Louis murmurs. He nudges at Harry’s side with his knee, only for it to get pinned down quickly.</p>
<p>“Are you all mine, baby?” Harry repeats. He leans over Louis’ body, bracketing him with his arms, until their faces are a few inches apart. “How many boys have you let up in you since the last time?”</p>
<p>Louis breathes out hard. “You’re a dick,” he says, turning his face to the side. “I haven’t.” He has to close his eyes against the sudden wetness in them.</p>
<p>“How do I know that you’re telling the truth?” Harry asks. “How do I know that you haven’t let any other boys up in this pretty arse?”</p>
<p>There’s a lot of things that Louis could say to that - things that would make Harry more complacent, things that would make Harry angry, maybe even something that would get him to undo the ropes.</p>
<p>Most of them would be lies.</p>
<p>“You know that no one else could fuck me like you can,” Louis says instead, turning his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “Why would I let some nobody fuck me when I’ve had you in me, huh?”</p>
<p>Harry’s on him like Louis has cut an invisible string, biting at his mouth until Louis lets him in, lets him lick into his mouth like he owns it. There’s only two ways this can end, and both of them involve Louis getting fucked.</p>
<p>That would probably sound like a worse thing if Louis didn’t want it like he wants to be able to breathe, like he wants to make things right.</p>
<p>The sound of fabric being ripped isn’t even remotely a shock. Harry’s claws aren’t out, which is always a good thing, so Louis lies still for it and bites back all of the comments his brain wants him to make.</p>
<p>“Look at you, almost human,” he croons, shifting his hips so Harry fits between his thighs better.</p>
<p>Almost all the comments, anyway.</p>
<p>“Oh, sweetheart, you wouldn’t even know what to do with me if I was human,” Harry says, brushing away the tattered remains of Louis’ shirt, so he has access to bare skin. “It’s easier for you because I’m not, don’t fool yourself into thinking that I don’t know that.”</p>
<p>He’s not wrong. Louis knows what to do with violent, borderline murderous types, how to deal with them.</p>
<p>Ignoring the fact that his way of dealing with this particular violent, borderline murderous type is to let him take all of his aggression out on Louis’ arse has become easier and easier.</p>
<p>“My big bad werewolf,” Louis says, arching up into Harry’s mouth as he bites his chest, using liberal amounts of teeth.</p>
<p>Louis’ cock is so fucked up for liking it.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Louis can’t sleep. That on its own is nothing new - he’s pretty sure he hasn’t slept more than four hours straight in weeks. He’s used to the insomnia, the paranoia, the loneliness. He has no expectations of making it through this alive, and those are all feelings he’s used to.</p>
<p>Tonight, though, lying here in this dingy motel room with a ceiling fan swirling lazily overhead, purchased under a fake name, it’s not just the lack of sleep and the crushing weight of guilt and loss that’s gnawing at him. Right now, it’s the echo of a pulse that isn’t his own rushing through his body, adrenaline that doesn’t belong to him lighting his nerves on fire. All he’s done over the past couple of days is wait for a contact to get back to him with more information, and the restlessness has caught up with him. Somewhere out there, Harry is tearing into his own enemies with his bare hands, and Louis longs to be in that fight.</p>
<p>Zayn was right. Louis can feel the bond strengthening every day, and he doesn’t know what will happen when it solidifies. Werewolves are notoriously close-lipped about their biology and customs, and Louis hasn’t been able to find much information on werewolf-human bonds. He hasn’t been letting himself think about what will happen to Harry when he’s gone, but he can’t keep his mind off it now, with nothing to do, no one to punch, no moves to make.</p>
<p>It’s lonely. It’s the loneliest Louis has ever felt in his life, and lately he’s had a lot of experience with that. Everything feels like too much right now, like he’s about to shatter into a million pieces. He lies awake until he can’t stand it anymore, and then digs his thumbnail into the soft flesh of his palm and keeps digging until he draws blood.</p>
<p>Only then does he sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he wakes, two or three hours later, he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that Harry’s in the room with him. He can feel the sharp bite of metal around his wrists, nothing that could keep him in place for too long, pinning him to the cheap bedframe.</p>
<p>“Every time I smell your blood, my heart stops beating for a second or two,” Harry says conversationally. Louis doesn’t open his eyes. “It’s not good for my cardiac health to be smelling it as much as I do.”</p>
<p>“You’ll have to forgive me if I have a hard time caring,” Louis says. For a second, for this one second, he feels peace. He knows it won’t last long.</p>
<p>The bite mark on his inner thigh itches. It feels the same as it had when he went to sleep, and that means Harry hasn’t done it yet. Louis doesn’t know if he feels relieved or not.</p>
<p>“You bled for me,” Harry says, something akin to triumph in his voice. “I thought something had happened to you, but I found you here in bed with blood on your hand and no other wounds. You wanted me to find you.”</p>
<p>Louis opens his eyes. He’s not stupid, and he knows exactly what reaction Harry would have to finding him in a bed wearing only a clinging pair of briefs with blood on his skin. The tent at the crotch of Harry’s jeans would be more obscene if they weren’t so tight, but as it is it’s noticeable.</p>
<p>“My blood has nothing to do with you,” Louis says. He sounds as tired as he feels, even to himself.</p>
<p>Harry rises, crossing the room quietly and climbing onto the bed, sinking down onto his knees and tracing the edge of one fingernail down the center of Louis’ chest. “You could have cleaned it up,” he says, bending his head to nuzzle at Louis’ palm. “Moved on, and I would have lost the scent before I got anywhere close to you.”</p>
<p>Louis keeps quiet. Denying it would do no good, not when they both know it’s true, and he doesn’t feel like having yet another confrontation. Not right now.</p>
<p>“But you didn’t,” Harry continues, swiping his tongue against the dried blood, lapping it up, until Louis’ palm is spit slick and clean. His fingers twitch against the hot lave of it. “And you didn’t wake up when I got here, and you haven’t tried to fight me yet.”</p>
<p>They’re observations that are leading somewhere. Harry cuts himself off to suck a sharp kiss into Louis’ collarbone, one that will probably leave a mark. Louis squeezes his eyes shut again and tries to breathe normally, not arch up into the pressure.</p>
<p>“You want me,” Harry says, sliding lower. “As much as I want you. You <i>need</i> me.”</p>
<p>Harry’s arousal may have been obvious, but so is Louis’, straining against the thin cotton of his briefs. “You bleed for me, and no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that running is the best option you’ll never really believe it.”</p>
<p>He brings a hand up to curl around Louis’ thigh, pressing intently against the bite mark there. “One day you’re going to tell me what you’re running from, and I’m going to rip apart the entire world to put an end to it.”</p>
<p>He squeezes the bite mark again, down between Louis’ thighs, and Louis has to twist uncomfortably to see him, watch him.</p>
<p>“Until then, I’m going to make sure that I’ll be able to find you, no matter how far you go,” Harry promises, pressing the tips of his teeth, sharp, against the mark.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t say anything. Harry bites.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The tingling starts again halfway to Manchester. Louis is in the middle of a carpark, waiting for his contact to approach him, when the tingling goes from light and easily ignored to sharp and overwhelming.</p>
<p>Out in the open like this, there’s a lot of ways Harry could approach him. He usually approaches from the back, the better to sneak up on Louis from, but this time he’s standing twenty feet away, directly in Louis’ line of vision, hands tucked into his pockets. He looks unassuming and unthreatening, sunlight streaming over him, wearing a pair of old jeans and a white t-shirt. In short, he looks like every other guy in the parking lot of this grocery store.</p>
<p>He’s anything but.</p>
<p>Louis’ fingers itch. The fight-or-flight urge wracks his body, almost numbing in its intensity. He wishes absently that <i>fuck</i> didn’t sound like a better option. “How did you find me.”</p>
<p>Harry puts his hands up, placating, inching a bit closer. “You know how I found you.”</p>
<p>There’s still enough space between them that Louis could make a run for it and have a pretty good chance of getting away. His better judgment is telling him that’s the right move, that if he lets Harry come any closer this encounter is only going to end in blood and tears.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t move. “Stop stalking me,” he says unevenly. “I want you to leave me alone.”</p>
<p>“I know about your family,” Harry says, and just like that, Louis’ entire world goes grey. He can feel himself swaying on his feet but it’s like he’s been glued to the ground, unable to move, unable to <i>think</i>.</p>
<p>Before he can get himself to breathe again, Harry’s in front of him, hands sliding around Louis’ waist, drawing their bodies together. “Baby,” he says quietly, big and broad and sucking away all the light, “Please don’t stab me with that.”</p>
<p>There’s a knife in Louis’ hand, a werewolf at his front, and for the second time in his life Louis’ entire world has been turned upside down.</p>
<p>He uses the knife. Draws it quick and smooth across Harry’s skin, not deep, and doesn’t wait to see Harry drop to his knees before he’s running, fleeing the carpark and resisting the urge to look over his shoulder the entire time.</p>
<p>The knife is made out of pure silver. It’s going to take Harry a few minutes to be able to push himself to his feet, which means that Louis has a head start.</p>
<p>He’s not going to waste it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Mpreg Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Male Pregnancy<br/>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>Smoking<br/>Antagonistic Relationship<br/>Angst</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time it happens, Harry’s just come home from doing some errand that he only vaguely remembers, and he doesn’t even realize that Louis doesn’t know he’s there until it’s already happened.</p>
<p>He hears Louis’ voice coming from upstairs and figures that he must be on the phone or something, because he doesn’t hear any other voices. He doesn’t think he’s particularly quiet about making his way up the stairs, but he must be, because by the time he makes it into Louis’ bedroom his voice has become clearer, standing shirtless in the ensuite bathroom with the door open, rubbing his belly.</p>
<p>“I know, baby, but daddy’s gonna be home soon with snacks for us, yeah? Just gotta wait a little bit longer,” he murmurs softly, talking to his stomach, and Harry.</p>
<p>Harry drops his bag.</p>
<p>Louis startles and looks up, blue eyes wide and panicked, and they stare at each other in silence, both of them frozen to the ground and unable to move.</p>
<p>They regain control of their limbs at the same time, and they’re both moving, but Louis is faster, kicking the door closed right in Harry’s face.</p>
<p>And that’s how Harry simultaneously finds out that Louis is pregnant and that he’s the father.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“So I’m gonna talk and you’re just gonna listen,” Louis says, folding his hands together in his lap. Harry doesn’t miss the way they tremble.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry says. It seems like Louis was waiting for an agreement - or maybe a disagreement, Harry doesn’t even know. He slumps a little in his shoulders, in a way that he probably thinks that Harry doesn’t notice.</p>
<p>He does.</p>
<p>“I’m keeping the baby,” Louis says, and Harry flinches. He hadn’t even thought to consider that possibility, that Louis might not want to keep it. He’d just assumed -</p>
<p>“I don’t - you need to stay away from me,” Louis continues. Harry does flinch this time, sitting up properly and almost reaching out for Louis, for one of his hands, for his arm, for his cheek, for his back, anything.</p>
<p>“Lou,” Harry starts.</p>
<p>Louis interrupts placidly, like this conversation is taking absolutely no toll on him. “You’re going to play exactly the same role that any of the other boys do. You can ask how I’m doing, or how the baby’s doing, and you can buy stuff for the kid if you want, but you’re not going to be coming to any doctor’s appointments, and you’re not going to move back in, and you’re not going to tell me how I’m going to raise my kid. Do you understand?”</p>
<p>“No,” Harry says immediately. “Louis, this is my baby too. I’m gonna be in its life. I have rights, too, as the other parent, and I’m gonna use them. It’s not fair to just cut me completely out of its life before I even have the chance to meet it.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Yes, baby, I know,” Louis says, rucking his shirt up and rubbing his belly. “Tell daddy to go get us some cereal.”</p>
<p>Harry grits his teeth and resolutely keeps staring at the telly. Louis can’t keep doing this, and the only way to get that across to him is to ignore him. He can feel Louis’ eyes sharp on the side of his face, watching him for a reaction that Harry is determined not to give him.</p>
<p>“Daddy’s ignoring us, huh,” Louis says, stretching his leg out and poking Harry’s thigh with his toes. “Doesn’t wanna get up and get us any food. What a mean daddy. Gonna have to start working on getting him wrapped around your finger now, aren’t you?”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“I guess daddy wants us to starve, then,” Louis says, heaving a dramatic sigh. He doesn’t let up on the poking. Harry curls his fingers into his palm and breathes through his nose, only barely keeping himself from grabbing Louis’ ankle and hauling him into his lap just to see if it would make him settle down.</p>
<p>Liam must be able to see some of that on Harry’s face. He hauls himself up out of his chair, saying, “I’ll get you some cereal, Tommo,” and drops a kiss on Louis’ head as he makes his way to the kitchenette, squeezing Harry’s shoulder as he goes.</p>
<p>The poking doesn’t stop. <i>The poking doesn’t fucking stop</i>. Harry’s going to go crazy if he has to take one more second of this, and the poking isn’t fucking stopping.</p>
<p>“Daddy wants you to settle down,” Harry says sharply, grabbing Louis’ ankle before he can poke him again. He’s only holding it loosely but Louis doesn’t even try to pull away, leg resting in Harry’s lap. He’s wearing baggy sweats and an old t-shirt that he must have stolen from someone else, judging from the way it sits on his frame, big and billowy, and it’s way too easy for Harry to slip his fingers up underneath the hem of the sweats, stroking over bare skin.</p>
<p>“Tell that to your kid,” Louis snorts, putting a hand on the swell of his belly, still small and hidden underneath the material of his shirt. “Feel all moody and shit.”</p>
<p>It’s been three weeks. It’s been three weeks since Louis told him, and they’ve talked less and less every day. At least, that’s the way it seems to Harry, like they’re sliding even farther apart, and he doesn’t want that but he doesn’t know how to fix it, either.</p>
<p>This is the first time Louis has acknowledged that the baby is Harry’s too, in a serious way - not including that one and only conversation they had about it - and Harry’s shocked into stillness. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. It’s been bad enough with Louis trying to drive him crazy with the <i>daddy</i> thing, but this.</p>
<p>“I,” Harry says. He has to stop to swallow, reaching out with his free hand slowly, hesitantly. “Can I?”</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t say anything, which is as good as permission from him, so Harry rucks his shirt up a little, just enough to bare his belly, and puts his hand on it, only the barest hint of a bump. He can’t feel any movement, probably still too early for that, but the baby is there, growing.</p>
<p>Harry’s good at talking. He’s made a pretty decent living out of it, out of his voice, but words fail him now, in the face of Louis and his baby in Louis’ belly.</p>
<p>“Baby likes you,” Louis whispers. Harry drags his eyes up to Louis’ face, to where he’s chewing on his thumbnail, talking around it. “Think she knows her daddy.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Daddy thinks he’s going to break us,” Louis says scornfully, talking to the wall in front of him. Harry tries not to listen, tries <i>so fucking hard</i> not to listen to him spouting his mouth off again, but it’s hard when they’re this close, when Harry’s all but ramming him into the wall.</p>
<p>Harry grits his teeth and pulls out, keeping that same steady, even, <i>not slow</i> pace before pushing back in. Louis is just trying to get to him, same way he always does. He’s just using sex to do it now, that’s all. Harry can do this. He can fuck Louis nice and steady, fill him up without hurting him, without even saying anything. He can do this.</p>
<p>Louis continues, one hand cradling the slight swell of his belly as though he’s talking to their baby even though Harry fucking <i>knows</i> he’s not, “Thinks just because he went and knocked me up that suddenly I can’t take whatever he throws my way. Fucking <i>prat</i>, your daddy, can never give me what I need.”</p>
<p>Louis is still talking. Harry squeezes his eyes closed and grips the back of Louis’ neck harder, other hand on his hip. Not touching the soft little swell of his belly. Pointedly not touching it. Won’t touch it. Knows Louis would only slap his hand away anyway, no matter how much Harry <i>wants</i> to touch it. To cradle it in his hands and fuck Louis slow and gentle until he’s gasping with it, overwhelmed and shaky. Until he admits that he’s being a <i>dick</i>.</p>
<p>None of that is going to happen. Harry keeps breathing, ragged and uneven against the back of Louis’ head, and doesn’t give in to Louis’ goading.</p>
<p>“Like being pregnant is some kind of <i>disease</i>,” Louis spits out, shoving back on Harry’s cock forcefully. “Like I can’t <i>handle</i> it. Like I need to be fucked <i>gently</i>.”</p>
<p>Slowly, Harry’s determination begins to fray. He hates it when Louis pulls this shit, this tougher than nails shit. Because Harry knows - <i>he fucking knows</i> - that it isn’t Louis. Not that Louis isn’t capable of taking care of himself, he is, but Louis is also the person who likes to curl up under a blanket and watch films with him, the person who rubs Harry’s back when he gets tense, the person who demands arbitrarily to be carried around by literally everyone, up to and including their stylists.</p>
<p>He hasn’t let himself be that person around Harry in far too long. The sex ruined them. The sex fucking ruined them, and here Harry is, giving in to it again.</p>
<p>To be fair, it wasn’t the sex, though. They were drifting apart for a long time before that.</p>
<p>“You fucking did this to me, you wanker, fucking pay attention and fuck me <i>properly</i>,” Louis hisses, bracing himself up against the wall. “Can’t even fucking get laid any more because of you, least you can do is fuck me like you mean it.”</p>
<p>Harry’s eyes burn. He keeps them closed, trying not to feel the slick drag of his cock in Louis’ arse. He’s not going to cry, not right now. Save it for later, once Louis has kicked him out again. They’re more likely to be tears of frustration by then.</p>
<p>“Stop,” Harry breathes, touching Louis’ cock, wet at the head. “Please.”</p>
<p>Abruptly, Louis goes lithe and molten, sexy the way he only is around Harry when he’s trying to get a rise out of him.</p>
<p>“Want you to <i>pound me</i>,” he says. “Know you want that, want to hold me still and make me take it as hard as you can give it. Know you wanted to pound me since the first day we met. Knew it when you used to throw me around after a show, pretending to be kidding around but I fucking <i>knew</i>. Knew the only thing stopping you was your fucking <i>fear</i>. So fucking <i>pound me</i>, Harry.”</p>
<p>Harry stops. He’s done. Can’t do this anymore. Pulls out, takes a step back.</p>
<p>“What,” Louis says, frantic, twisting his head over his shoulder, “where are you - ”</p>
<p>“Turn around,” Harry orders. Doesn’t wait for Louis to do it, spins him around himself. </p>
<p>Louis opens his mouth to say something else, probably something that will pull at the last strings keeping Harry’s heart together. Harry slaps a hand over his mouth, leaning some of his weight against it as he hefts one of Louis’ legs up around his waist, pressing it there until Louis takes the hint and clings.</p>
<p>Lifts the other one up immediately after, leaving Louis completely off of the floor and mumbling something behind Harry’s hand, eyes wide and blue but not protesting. Dark. Aroused.</p>
<p>“Just shut up,” Harry says, means it to be an order. Comes out as more of a plea. “Gonna - gonna pound you, but only if you shut up, baby, alright?”</p>
<p>Slowly, Louis nods. Harry lets him slip down, just a little, just enough that the tip of his cock breaches his hole.</p>
<p>Then Harry <i>pounds him</i>.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Harry really needs to stop being surprised when Louis breaks into his hotel room. There was a time when it would have been more surprising if Louis hadn’t broken in, but those times have passed. Those times are long since passed.</p>
<p>He comes out of the shower, towel drying his hair, to find Louis standing in the middle of the room, barefoot and clutching a package of cigarettes between his hands.</p>
<p>To say Harry is dumbfounded would be an understatement. Suddenly, he’s acutely grateful that he decided to take a pair of clean boxers into the bathroom with him. Whatever kind of ambush this is, he doesn’t want to deal with it entirely naked.</p>
<p>“Louis,” he starts.</p>
<p>Louis brandishes the package of cigarettes at him, hands shaking the tiniest bit. “I need you to go out onto the balcony, smoke one of these and then come back and kiss me,” he says unsteadily.</p>
<p>“That seems like a terrible idea,” Harry says, frowning. He can’t help it - it’s an instinct to try to keep Louis and the baby safe. Like a biological imperative or something. Louis and the baby have to be safe or Harry goes a little crazy. He’s not necessarily proud of it.</p>
<p>Plus there’s all the other stuff still hanging unsaid between them. This is a terrible idea.</p>
<p>“Go outside and smoke one of these,” Louis repeats, higher pitched, and there’s something in his tone that has Harry taking the package.</p>
<p>It’s still a terrible idea, but Harry makes short work of smoking a cigarette, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke linger on his tongue before breathing it back out. His stomach is swimming with nerves, and they’re not all bad. There’s been kissing since Harry found out. There’s even been sex since Harry found out, because apparently they’ve become incapable of not falling into each other like that. There’s no reason for the nerves. They’ve touched more in the past few months than they had for about a year before that, so. The nerves are useless.</p>
<p>The taste of smoke is still clinging to his tongue when Harry goes back inside. Louis is lying on the bed, under the covers, and the sight of it kind of makes Harry want to cry from how <i>right</i> it looks. How right Louis looks in Harry’s bed, all full of his baby and tired, waiting for Harry to come kiss him goodnight.</p>
<p>Harry pushes the thoughts out of his head. It takes a lot of effort.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t say anything as Harry approaches the bed, just holds up a corner of the duvet. Harry’s breath rattles in his chest as he takes the invitation for what it is, edging his way into the sliver of space Louis has left for him, all warm skin and need.</p>
<p>He hasn’t even snarked at Harry that much today. He’s been distant and far away, kind of reminiscent of how he used to be before that night, and Harry doesn’t like it. He never thought he’d prefer Louis’ relentless pestering and snappiness, but he does.</p>
<p>“I’m probably going to start crying if you don’t hurry up and kiss me,” Louis says eventually, breaking the silence. “Just saying.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. Serial Killer Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Serial Killers<br/>Violence<br/>Police<br/>Interrogation Rooms<br/>Death<br/>Murder</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Behind the glass, Harry’s sitting at a table, hands cuffed to a metal bar bolted to the top. He looks a lot more normal than Louis expected him to, and for a second Louis can’t breathe, can’t think straight.</p>
<p>“Ready?” Wilson asks, squeezing Louis’ shoulder softly. Louis inhales slowly, letting it back out even slower.</p>
<p>“No,” he says, but he follows Wilson to the door anyway, steps into the room once it’s opened, and tries not to feel like he’s stepping towards his death.</p>
<p>Harry’s looking at him, unblinking and emotionless. He doesn’t say anything as the door swings closed, doesn’t say anything as Louis crosses the room to sit in the chair opposite him.</p>
<p>Louis isn’t going to cry. He’s not. “Alright, I’m here, what did you want to tell me.”</p>
<p>It’s not a question because if he poses it as one he’s opening himself up to an actual conversation, and there’s no way he’s ready for that. He’s not even ready to be sitting across a table from Harry right now, much less actually talking to him.</p>
<p>It’s been six months, half a year. It’s been forever and nowhere near long enough.</p>
<p>“What makes you think I wanted to tell you anything?” Harry asks, leaning forward as much as he can with the handcuffs looped around his wrists. “I just wanted to see you. I haven’t seen you in so long, baby, you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Louis says sharply, folding his hands in his lap to hide their trembling. “Don’t pull that shit with me right now, Harry, I swear.”</p>
<p>“You are, though,” Harry says, slumping back in his chair. It’s just placating enough to come across as unintentional, and Louis - he fucking hates that, the reminder of how easily Harry can read him. The reminder of how easy it was for Harry to pull this over him for so fucking long.</p>
<p>Louis regrets coming here. It’s not the worst decision he’s ever made, but it’s pretty far up the list. “Did you want to tell me something or not? I came all this way and I’m not going to do it again, so this is your only chance.”</p>
<p>“You came all this way because your conscious couldn’t handle the thought of letting another pretty young blonde girl die,” Harry says, and the only sign that he’s not as relaxed as he appears to be is the tiny twitch in his cheek, the one he gets when he’s annoyed.</p>
<p>Good. Let him be annoyed. It’s the very least of what he deserves after what he’s done.</p>
<p>“I came here to tell you that you’re a fucking dick and that if you know something you need to tell the police instead of letting innocent people die,” Louis snaps. “Don’t put this on me, arsehole.”</p>
<p>“Christ, I’ve missed you,” Harry says suddenly, laughing a little. There’s something sad behind his laughter and Louis doesn’t fucking care. Can’t let himself care. “Did you ever get that new telly you wanted?”</p>
<p><i>Don’t</i>. Louis wants to say it again. Wants to say it <i>desperately</i>. Instead, he squeezes his own fingers tighter and leans forward, resting his elbows on top of the table.</p>
<p>“Let me make this clear,” he says, “since you apparently aren’t getting it. I didn’t come here out of the goodness of my heart, or because I missed you, or because I wanted to see you. I came here because I got pressured into it, and it’s the last thing I wanted to be doing right now. Make no mistake, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for that irritating detective, and I don’t want to talk about what’s been going on in my life lately and I <i>especially</i> don’t want to talk about yours.”</p>
<p>With that, he gets up, nearly tipping over the chair in the process, and makes his way to the door. The guard on the other side buzzes him through, and Louis rips it open, intent on leaving this place and never coming back.</p>
<p>“Love you too, baby,” Harry calls after him, and the thing is, the thing is that he sounds like he means it.</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t stop until he’s out of the prison and in his car, heading down the motorway at a speed that’s likely to get him pulled over, and he doesn’t let himself cry until he’s in the safety of his bedroom with the curtains drawn.</p>
<p>This was a mistake.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The last thing Louis wants to do is go back to the prison. Yesterday had been - hard. Seeing Harry like that, knowing what he did to all those people, it’s too much for Louis to bear. Seeing him just reminded Louis of all those years he lived in oblivion for, going about his life in peace while Harry was out there murdering people. It doesn’t matter that Louis’ therapist says there’s no way he could have known. Louis should have known, and he didn’t. That’s what matters.</p>
<p>So it’s the last thing Louis wants to be doing, but he turned on the news this morning, and there was another pretty blonde girl all over it. Her name was Cameron Pierce, she was 19 years old, and she’s dead now. Murdered, bloodily and brutally.</p>
<p>If Harry knows something about it, Louis has to do whatever he can to get him talking. So here he is, standing in front of this heavy steel door, waiting for it to swing open. And as much as he doesn’t want it to, he knows that it will, and that he’ll have to walk in and see Harry there, sitting on the other side of the table, hands shackled in front of him, only able to move a few inches. There’s no way he’d be able to hurt Louis.</p>
<p>Not that he would, a little voice inside Louis’ head insists. No matter what else he did, he never hurt Louis. Physically, at least, and never outside of sex.</p>
<p>The door swings open. Louis takes a long, slow breath in, and enters. Harry looks the same as he did yesterday, and that shouldn’t be a shock but for some reason it is.</p>
<p>Detective Wilson gave Louis a picture of Cameron. He pulls it out after he sits down, putting it on the table facing Harry. He’s careful not to put his hands anywhere near Harry’s reach, and he knows Harry notices.</p>
<p>“Louis,” Harry says. His fingers are laced together on top of the table, and his hands look different without all of his rings. Louis hadn’t noticed yesterday, and noticing now makes him acutely aware of the bare spot on his own hand.</p>
<p>They’re not wearing their rings for two entirely different reasons.</p>
<p>Ignoring that Harry’s said anything, Louis taps the edge of the picture. “Her name was Cameron,” he says. “She was 19, on her way home from school. He had her for three days before the police found her body in an alley, left there like she was a piece of trash.”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t even pretend to look down at the picture. “You look like you’ve been crying,” he says.</p>
<p>“She had two loving parents, three younger siblings and a dog named Rover,” Louis continues. He can’t stop staring at Harry’s hands, how different the lines of ink running down his arms looks in this light, without the sliver gleam of his jewelry to draw attention. “She had her entire life ahead of her, and you know something that could help find her killer, but you’re going to sit on it because you want to see me?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know anything,” Harry says, cheerfully disagreeable. “I can make an educated guess, but that’s about it. And of course I want to see you.”</p>
<p>Louis lifts his hands off the table, tucking them into his lap. The last time he saw Harry without his rings, they’d been sitting on the counter in the bathroom while Harry showered, getting ready to go to work. It had been the day Louis turned him in.</p>
<p>“Why?” Louis demands, the word torn out of him so hard it leaves an actual ache in his chest. “It’s not like you ever really had any feelings for me, you were just using me to make yourself seem normal, to fit in. You never actually cared about me, so why did you want to see me?”</p>
<p>He meets Harry’s gaze head on this time.</p>
<p>“You think I don’t care about you?” Harry repeats carefully. His hands twitch on the table, knuckles going white for a second before returning to their usual colour. Part of Louis wants to inch backwards at the movement. Harry’s never physically hurt him before, but Louis knows how strong he is. Remembers all the times they had sex up against a wall, Harry bearing all of Louis’ weight. Remembers watching Harry work out in the gym, throwing bits of paper at him because Louis was bored and didn’t want to do any actual exercise himself.</p>
<p>“I think you don’t really care about anything,” Louis responds.</p>
<p>For a minute, all Harry does is watch him. The silence is thick, heavy. Uncomfortable. Every time Louis thinks he’s done the hardest thing he’ll ever have to do, something new comes his way and ruins his life all over again.</p>
<p>“You know, the first time I saw you, you were on the phone, yelling at someone about something,” Harry says eventually. “You were exactly the type of person I didn’t need to end up with, loud and always the center of attention, and I asked you out anyway.”</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t need to hear this. “He had Cameron for three days. I don’t know what kind of things you can do to a person in three days, but I do know that she died alone and terrified, wanting her family.”</p>
<p>“You were the last person I would have chosen if it was about keeping my cover,” Harry says. “Everyone was always watching you, and by extension that meant everyone was always watching me, and that wasn’t what I needed to keep myself under the radar. If I didn’t feel anything for you, the last thing I would have done is marry you.”</p>
<p>“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Louis demands, slamming his hands down on the table.</p>
<p>Slowly, Harry shakes his head. “No,” he says quietly. Their hands are only a few inches apart. If Harry tried, he could probably make their fingers touch. “I should have never asked you out that day, but I saw you and I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never felt the way I do about you for anyone else.”</p>
<p>It sounds like an apology, and that’s something Louis can’t stand to hear. He shakes his head once and stands up, heading for the door without another word.</p>
<p>“I knew, you know,” Harry calls from behind him. “The day you were going to turn me in, I knew.”</p>
<p>The words stop Louis in his tracks. His shoulders shake, and he realizes he’s crying, feels the wetness on his cheeks.</p>
<p>“I could have left,” Harry says, quieter. “I could have left a thousand times over, but no matter how much I needed the killing, I always needed you more. You’re my reason.”</p>
<p>It takes all of Louis’ strength to put a hand on the door and push it open. Harry’s always known all of his weak spots, he’s just choosing now to exploit them for some reason Louis can’t understand. Sticking around any longer won’t help him decipher those reasons.</p>
<p>“He’s not choosing his victims randomly,” Harry says abruptly. “He’s got some kind of connection to them, knows them from somewhere. Probably not all from the same place, though.”</p>
<p>Louis pauses, leaning his forehead against the door and closing his eyes. It’s something. It’s finally something.</p>
<p>“I love you,” Harry says. “Sometimes I think about what I would do to someone who tried to hurt you, and all the things I’ve done in the past pale in comparison. I love you, baby.”</p>
<p>“Please don’t,” Louis says, knows he’s whining it into the steel of the door, and walks out before his legs give way underneath him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. Soulmates AU Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Soulmates<br/>Royalty<br/>Amnesia<br/>Accidents<br/>Violence<br/>Angst</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Louis shouldn’t be here. Christ, Louis <i>really</i> shouldn’t be here right now.</p>
<p>There’s no changing the fact that he is, though, and there’s no changing the shallow cut dripping blood down the side of his temple, the shackles binding his hands together in front of him, the guards at his back preventing him from fleeing.</p>
<p>There’s no changing the look of amazement that crosses Harry’s face as he wakes up and sees Louis standing there. The look of pure disbelief.</p>
<p>“<i>You</i>,” Harry breathes, struggling to sit up in his hospital bed. One of the guards rushes to assist him, propping a pillow behind his back. That’s all he says for a minute, eyes wide as though he’s drinking in every detail of Louis’ ragged appearance.</p>
<p>Then his eyebrows furrow and he turns to his guards. “Why is he shackled?” he demands, gesturing to Louis, still so princely even when he can’t remember who he is. What he is.</p>
<p>What they are.</p>
<p>“Sire,” one of the guards starts. </p>
<p>Harry holds up a hand, cuts him off. “This is my soulmate,” he says firmly. “Release him.”<br/>Louis barely resists a shudder, standing barefoot and dirty in the hospital room of the amnesiac prince of Cheshire. He shouldn’t be here.</p>
<p>“Sire,” Henry, the head guard, steps in. “It’s not that simple.”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t look away from Louis. “Explain.”</p>
<p>Jesus, Louis’ cock shouldn’t be throbbing like this, trapped behind the thick denim of his jeans, just from hearing Harry’s voice for the first time in months. He promised himself that he’d be okay, forced himself to believe it for so long. Now, here, faced with Harry’s too pale face and the breadth of his shoulders underneath the flimsy hospital gown, the depth of his voice, Louis is so far from okay he’s about to break apart with it.</p>
<p>He can never go home again.</p>
<p>“This is Prince Louis Tomlinson of Doncaster,” Henry says. “The war between your two kingdoms lasted nearly fifty years and nearly ravaged both of them. It was only resolved when there was an agreement made that neither of the royal families would cross the border into the other’s territories. Him being here right now is a violation of that agreement and undoubtedly means that war will be returning to these lands.”</p>
<p>Harry’s silent for so long that the entire room becomes fraught with tension, hanging palpably in the air. Abruptly, he stands, swinging his bare feet down onto the floor and stalking his way over to stand in front of Louis, wrapping one hand around Louis’ throat like he owns it, thumb resting <br/>against his windpipe.</p>
<p>Alarmed, the only thing Louis can think to do is stare down at the floor. His heart is pounding in his chest, loud and fast, and he knows Harry can feel the phantom echo of it in his own. It’s a gesture that’s unfamiliar to him, one he wouldn’t give anyone but the man standing in front of him right now, an act of subservience. An act of <i>submission</i>.</p>
<p>It’s not that someone in Louis’ position needs to be inherently powerful, inherently dominant. That’s not it at all - plenty of royalty has been soft-spoken or exceedingly kind, caring, and done their jobs well. No one in Louis’ family, granted, but that’s more of a Tomlinson thing than it is a royalty thing.</p>
<p>No, this comes right down to their relationship, the same way it always has, and Harry has no way of knowing that. No way of remembering that.</p>
<p>“I don’t know much of anything right now,” Harry says calmly, still gripping Louis’ throat with one hand, using the other to tip Louis’ chin up. “But what I do know is that he is <i>mine</i>, that his heart beats for <i>me</i>, that none of you are going to lay a <i>goddamn</i> hand on him.”</p>
<p>Louis shouldn’t be shocked - there’s a lot between them, emotion, blood, lust, love, pain, anger, and just because Harry doesn’t remember it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it the same Louis does. Doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel the hurt in every breath Louis takes the same way Louis felt it the instant Harry went down, the instant the blade pierced Harry’s skin. The instant Harry lost consciousness, that numb fear that overtook him, had Louis fleeing the sanctity of his own kingdom to enter enemy territory, territory he will never be allowed to leave, just to be at Harry’s side.</p>
<p>He still is.</p>
<p>“Now get out,” Harry says, snaps the order at his guards. It’s a testament to their training when they immediately obey, shuffling out of the room in single file without questioning him. Even at his weakest, Harry is an indisputable leader, someone meant to rule a country. Someone to be obeyed.</p>
<p>Louis isn’t built for obedience.</p>
<p>“Did they hurt you?” Harry demands. Just like that, Louis is back in the present, the here and now, and the here and now isn’t somewhere he should be.</p>
<p>He jerks back, nearly falling over as he does, putting distance between them. Can’t stand the thought of Harry’s hands on him after all this time, can’t stand knowing that in a few minutes the King will arrive and have Louis imprisoned for daring to cross their borders. That Harry doesn’t remember any of this, doesn’t remember what they’ve been through.</p>
<p>Doesn’t remember what’s at stake, here.</p>
<p>“Oh no, sweetheart, you don’t get to do that,” Harry says, striding forwards and grabbing Louis’ face again, holding him still. “You’re the one who came to me, remember? All I felt before you got here was this vague ache I didn’t understand, like a piece of me was missing. Then you show up and all of your feelings just slammed right into me, so you don’t get to do that. Not to me.”</p>
<p>Louis’ mouth has gone dry. He longs for a sip of water, just a sip. Just enough to wet his mouth, slacken his thirst. He opens his mouth, croaks out, “This was a mistake.”</p>
<p>“No,” Harry says, green of his eyes unbearable this close. Their bare feet are touching on the cool tile, and Louis suddenly realizes that he’s been shivering for the past five minutes. </p>
<p>Only because the heat of Harry in front of him is undeniable. “I know things about you,” Harry murmurs, sweeping a thumb across the corner of Louis’ mouth. “If I touch you here your pulse flutters in your throat.” He demonstrates, dragging his thumb over the swell of Louis’ bottom lip, tugging it down, pad of it slick with Louis’ spit. “If I kiss your throat your heart quickens in your chest.”</p>
<p>Again, he demonstrates, laying his mouth over the spot that’s always been his favourite, the spot that he uses to leave big, obvious bruises on for anyone to see. “That if I were to use my mouth on your nipples you would beg me for more.”</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Louis says, the word ripped out of his chest. He stumbles back again, crashing against a wall.</p>
<p>Gets pinned there by Harry immediately following him. “You would deny your prince a chance to taste you the way he wants?” Harry asks, boxing Louis in with his hands against the wall but leaving their bodies untouching. </p>
<p><i>Your prince</i>, he says, as though Louis doesn’t hold the exact same status as he does. <i>Your prince</i>, he says, as though Louis owes him something.</p>
<p><i>No</i>.</p>
<p>Louis stomps on Harry’s toes. Hard, as hard as he can, with the heel of his foot, sending Harry reeling back a few steps. Knows Harry can feel his anger, lets it burn as bright as it wants, as hot as it wants. “You arsehole,” he spits, practically shaking with rage, hands twisting uselessly in front of him. “I will fucking rip your head right off your shoulders, you arrogant little piece of - ”</p>
<p>He’s cut off by Harry surging forwards, pushing Louis right back up against the wall and kissing him, fitting their mouths together perfectly on the very first try. It’s liquid heat and bone melting passion, intense and overwhelming the same way it was that very first time, so long ago.</p>
<p>Harry bites at his bottom lip, coaxing Louis’ mouth open, his tongue into coming out to play. Slick and wet and electric, sighing into it. Lets Harry nudge his hips between his thighs, persuade him to rise up onto his toes to make the slow rock of their bodies that much easier, that much more sensual.</p>
<p>“Knew there was fire in you,” Harry murmurs, sliding one big hand underneath Louis’ thigh and pulling it up around his hip. “Felt it the second you walked into the room, knew you wanted to unleash it on me. Wanted to let it burn me, baby, didn’t you.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, kissing Louis again.</p>
<p>Louis wants - Louis wants to let Harry take what he wants. Everything he wants, no matter what it is. Wants to roll over and show his belly, his weaknesses. Wants to trust Harry with them the way he used to be able to before.</p>
<p>But he can’t. Will never be able to again because they made a deal to save their countries, their people. And some things - some things are more important than soulmates.</p>
<p>“You’re here now,” Harry tells him, letting their mouths part, nudging his fingers under the hem of Louis’ shirt to stroke over his hip, the exact spot he must be able to feel the mark all but burning, yearning. “And you’re <i>mine</i>, and you’ve always been mine. And I don’t care about anything else.”</p>
<p>Louis blinks his eyes open, brings his cuffed hands up to stroke along the line of Harry’s jaw, sparsely, almost invisibly stubbled from his recovery, and wishes, not for the first time, that things could be different. “If you could remember you would know that isn’t true,” he says quietly. Harry cares about the fate of his people just as much as Louis does, cares about their well-being, their fates. </p>
<p>Enough to seal his own as having to spend the rest of his life without his soulmate. </p>
<p>“I don’t care,” Harry says, set of his jaw achingly familiar. “You’re mine and I’m going to have you.”</p>
<p>He steps back just in time for his father to enter the room, flanked by his personal guards. Louis inhales evenly, fingers curling into his fists, and wills himself not to cry. Won’t let them see his weaknesses, not even now. Not even bruised and bloody, battered and hopeless.</p>
<p>“Prince Louis,” the King says. “You’ve broken our agreement.”</p>
<p>Louis holds his head up and doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything that wouldn’t disrupt whatever peace their respective kingdoms have left. “Take him to the dungeon,” the King says abruptly, dismissing Louis the same way he always has, even after all the work Louis has done to broker this peace, all the sacrifices he’s made.</p>
<p>Harry’s voice cuts through the noise of the guards hastening to obey the orders of their king. “Father,” he says, deep and slow, calm. Louis feels it all the way down to his toes, feels the knowledge that Harry is about to do something incredibly stupid.</p>
<p><i>So</i> fucking stupid.</p>
<p>“Harry,” the King says. “Are you alright, my son?”</p>
<p>“No,” Harry says, drawing himself up to his full height in a way he usually only does when he’s trying to make Louis feel small, coax him into going down on his knees. It’s such a juxtaposition to see him using that move now, under these circumstances. “Louis is my soulmate.”</p>
<p>He says it like it’s something the King just hasn’t realized yet, like it’s news.</p>
<p>“Yes,” the King says, expression cloudy. He goes to add more, only he doesn’t get the chance before Harry’s cutting him off.</p>
<p>“I can feel him in my heart,” Harry says, tapping his actual heart for emphasis. “He’s the only person I have any kind of connection to right now, so believe me when I say I will <i>rip apart</i> this entire kingdom with my bare hands if necessary to keep him safe.”</p>
<p>“Harry,” Louis says. Harry barely even spares him a look, still glaring at his father.</p>
<p>“I’m going to let the guards take him tonight,” Harry says. “And if anyone lays so much as a <i>single finger</i> on him my face will be the last they ever see.”</p>
<p>With that, Harry turns back to Louis, cups his face between his hands again. “You’re mine,” he repeats, thumb catching on the corner of Louis’ lips.</p>
<p>Tears brim in the backs of Louis’ eyes. He blinks them away, kisses the pad of Harry’s thumb. </p>
<p>“It’s not that easy,” he whispers.</p>
<p>“It’s going to be,” Harry promises, and that’s the last thing he says before he kisses Louis once more and allows the guards to lead him away, and Louis knows he’s wrong.</p>
<p>It’ll never be that easy, not for them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. Famous/Non-Famous Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Celebrities Acting Weirdly<br/>Angst<br/>Fluff<br/>Drugs And Alcohol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey,” Harry says softly, crouching down beside Louis’ prone form. Reaches out to smooth the hair off of Louis’ forehead. “You alright?”</p>
<p>Louis isn’t asleep, blinking blearily up at him. Slowly, he nods, pushing one hand out of his pocket and lays it over Harry’s. “Tired,” is all he says.</p>
<p>“You wanna sleep?” Harry asks, using his free hand to pull the blanket off Louis’ legs. If he does Harry’s not gonna let him sleep down here when there’s a perfectly good bed upstairs.</p>
<p>Stubbornly, Louis shakes his head. Upon closer inspection, he smells like weed, the scent of it heavy and clinging to his clothes. Great. Now Harry’s gonna have to wash this blanket before he can put it back on the chair. </p>
<p>“Ran away,” Louis whispers, sitting up. “No one knows where to find me.” He looks a little too gleeful about this prospect. Harry doesn’t tell him about the inconspicuous black sedan he saw sitting outside the shop.</p>
<p>By this point, everyone knows when Louis runs away he only goes to one place.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Harry says, amused, and hauls Louis to his feet. “Did you eat already or do you want some dinner?”</p>
<p>Louis sways a little, tucking their fingers together. His feet are bare, Harry notices, socks and shoes long gone. Probably Harry will trip over them in the morning. “Waited for you,” he says, following close behind Harry to the little kitchenette. “Had toast for lunch.”</p>
<p>Harry frowns down at the stove as he flicks the kettle on, reaching up in the cupboard for the teabags. “That’s all?”</p>
<p>He can’t hide the disapproval from his voice. Like he hears it, Louis shuffles up against Harry’s back, resting his head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Wasn’t hungry,” he says, fiddling with a button on Harry’s shirt. “There was lots of food but I wasn’t hungry.”</p>
<p>The disapproval in Harry’s gut doesn’t fade. “Did you eat breakfast?”</p>
<p>Stubborn silence. Harry sighs, bracing his hands on the counter and letting his shoulders sag. “You need to make sure you eat, Lou,” he says.</p>
<p>“I do!” Louis insists. “I just wasn’t hungry today.”</p>
<p>This is an argument that isn’t going anywhere productive, Harry knows. He’ll just call Liam in the morning and badger him until he agrees to make sure Louis eats properly tomorrow. And the day after. They’re both all too aware that Louis forgets to eat sometimes when he’s got too much on his mind.</p>
<p>Louis sighs irritably. “You can feed me pancakes with syrup and whipped cream and strawberries and bacon in the morning,” he offers, rubbing his face across Harry’s back. It must say something about their relationship that he thinks bribing Harry with the chance to feed him is going to make Harry stop being grumpy.</p>
<p>He’s not exactly wrong. “And what should I feed you right now?” Harry asks, turning around and caging Louis in his arms. Louis barely even reacts, head settling on his chest instead.</p>
<p>“Pizza and chips,” Louis says. “Know you just wanna fatten me up.”</p>
<p>Harry bites the corner of his lip in an attempt to tamp down his smile. “Nah, baby, you’re the perfect size,” he says, pinching at Louis’ belly. Louis squawks, batting his hand away and moving to hop up onto the counter.</p>
<p>“Feed me,” he demands, kicking his feet in Harry’s direction. “I’m hungry, Harry, feed me.”</p>
<p>Groaning, Harry grabs one of his legs and pins it still, but can’t quite manage to grab the other one. “Stop it,” he says, laughing, and twists to avoid the next kick. Louis doesn’t stop, almost wiggling right off the counter as he tries to land his foot against Harry’s thigh, and there’s really only one way to stop him.</p>
<p>Harry surges forward and kisses him, holding him still with a hand threaded into the hair at the nape of his neck. Louis opens up for it immediately, tongue slick and quick against Harry’s, pulling him into the vee of his thighs. He feels so good underneath Harry’s hands, familiar and warm, and it’s been three weeks since he’s been underneath his hands like this.</p>
<p>Harry’s missed him.</p>
<p>The kiss breaks after a few minutes. One of Louis’ hands is curled around Harry’s wrist, still resting on his thigh, the other gripping his bicep. “Hi,” Louis whispers, rubbing his thumb against Harry’s.</p>
<p>“Hi,” Harry whispers back, resting their foreheads together. “You been alright?”</p>
<p>He means the question seriously. Louis will admit to certain things over the phone, like homesickness and exhaustion, but he’s never entirely honest until Harry’s got him face to face again.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Louis says, letting go of Harry’s wrist to trace over his cheekbone instead. “Missed you.”</p>
<p>There’s no way to reply to that without getting overly mushy, so Harry kisses him again. In a few minutes he’ll go and order the pizza.</p>
<p>In a few more minutes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That night, Harry sleeps better than he has in weeks. Louis still smells faintly like weed, and that should bother him, it really should, but it doesn’t.</p>
<p>They don’t have sex.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Louis stocks the shelves for approximately an hour before he gets bored and comes back to the front counter to pester Harry. He’s not cut out for menial work, always wandering away and abandoning things halfway through. Harry’s pretty sure he sees it as some sort of holiday and only does things as long as he finds them entertaining.</p>
<p>If he was an actual employee Harry would mind. He’s not, though.</p>
<p>Now he’s leaning over the counter, arse practically up in the air, trying to distract Harry from the inventory list he’s got in front of him. A year ago it might have worked, but now Harry is more than adept at fending him off while he concentrates.</p>
<p>“You’re boring,” Louis says sulkily, still hanging off the counter.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t even look up to reply. “We can’t all be popstars and celebrities, sweetheart, some of us have normal jobs,” he says.</p>
<p>“You’re not paying attention to me,” Louis rebukes, and Harry is about to answer that, he is, except Louis says, frantic and fast, “Shit, Liam’s outside.”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t even think, grabbing Louis’ shirt at the shoulders and hauling him all the way over the counter until he falls over the other side, scrambling to hide against Harry’s knees, underneath the counter and out of sight.</p>
<p>It doesn’t take long for Liam to enter the shop and stride directly up to the counter. Harry carefully evens out his breathing and makes a show of being surprised but not overly so. “Hey, Li,” he greets.</p>
<p>Liam’s expression makes it very clear that he’s not buying it. “Hey, Harry,” he returns easily enough. “You seen Lou lately?”</p>
<p>“Nope, not lately,” Harry says, jerking as Louis decides now would be a perfectly good time to bite him through his jeans. He squeezes Louis’ shoulders between his calves until he settles again, and Harry can practically hear the grumpiness as he does.</p>
<p>“Right,” Liam says, expression clearly disbelieving. “So you haven’t heard from him for a while?”</p>
<p>“Nope,” Harry repeats, lying through his teeth with a wide smile to really sell it.</p>
<p>Liam’s expression shifts to openly unamused. He leans over the counter and says clearly, “Lou, you’ve got until nine a.m. tomorrow, then you’ve gotta be back for a radio interview. Deal?”</p>
<p>Louis pops up from underneath the counter so fast Harry nearly gets knocked out of his chair. “Deal,” Louis says brightly, almost toppling over as he reaches across to give Liam a hug. Harry steadies him absently with a hand on the small of his back, and waits for the hug to finish.</p>
<p>It takes a while. Liam’s saying something too low for Harry to hear, almost directly into Louis’ ear, and Louis is nodding along with it. By the time they let go Harry’s shin is twinging from Louis’ heel pressing into it, and he ends up with a lapful of Louis.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“You could if you ever remembered to actually buy cereal,” Harry’s saying into the mic before he realizes it.</p>
<p>Just like that, he’s committed to this plan of action. There’s no way Louis hasn’t recognized his voice.</p>
<p>Okay. Harry can do this. He breathes through his nose as he strides onto the stage, trying to keep his cool. It doesn’t matter how nervous he is, doesn’t matter how many eyes are on him because he needs to apologize, needs to tell Louis how he really feels. Needs to have everything that’s sitting heavily in his chest out in the open.</p>
<p>“Harry,” Louis says. It doesn’t come out like a question. He’s sitting up straight in his chair, mic gripped tight in his right hand, and he looks. Shocked. Sad. Upset.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else, striding closer, ignoring the incessant flash of camera phones going off. “I’m sorry,” he says, stopping a few feet away from Louis’ chair.</p>
<p>Louis squeezes his eyes closed. “How did you even get in here.”</p>
<p>“I don’t care how rich you are, how famous you are, how many people know you,” Harry says, ignoring Louis’ question because it’s not important right now. If this goes the way Harry hopes it will there’ll be plenty of time to answer that question later. “I made a mistake, Louis, and I’m sorry. None of that stuff matters to me because I know you, and I - ”</p>
<p>Louis has always had a knack for interrupting Harry when he’s about to say something huge and important, and he proves it now. “That stuff does matter to you,” he says, loud and echoing even though he’s not talking into his mic anymore, standing up so fast he knocks his chair over. “That stuff has <i>always</i> mattered to you, Harry, and you can’t just turn around and tell me suddenly it’s not important anymore. That’s not the way - ”</p>
<p>It’s Harry’s turn to interrupt Louis, and he does it the best way he knows how, closing the remaining three steps between them and cupping Louis’ face in his hands. “I love you,” he says quietly, seriously. “I’m so fucking in love with you it hurts, Louis Tomlinson, and you’re right, those things do matter to me, the media scrutiny and insanity that goes hand in hand with your life, but they’ll never matter to me as much as you do.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. Sex/Genderswap Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Sexual Content<br/>Woke Up With Different Anatomy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Okay,” Louis says brightly, clapping his hands together twice. “I’ll just get in then, shall I?”</p>
<p>Harry looks entirely too peaceful, lounging in the bathtub, already mostly full, black swimming trunks very visible through the water. “You look like you’re going to drown.”</p>
<p>Louis glances down at himself reflexively, even though he’s already well aware of what he’s wearing - big, baggy t-shirt that goes halfway down his thighs, covering up a stringy little bikini, the only thing he could find that would fit. One of the girls must have left it behind the last time they had a party. Louis had washed it twice before he’d even let himself admit that he was going to put it on. It actually fits pretty nicely, but that’s not the problem. The problem is that it’s a bikini. There’s no way the t-shirt is coming off.</p>
<p>“No one asked you to talk,” he says, dipping a toe in the water. It’s nice and hot, but not too hot, just the way he likes it, so he steps in completely and sits himself down, settling in between Harry’s legs with as little of their bodies touching as possible.</p>
<p>“So, like, are you just going to do it?” Harry asks, completely disregarding Louis’ instructions not to talk. Figures.</p>
<p>Louis considers it for a second, pointedly not looking at the showerhead. His cunt feels a little tingly, warm, but he’ll be the first to admit that he’s scared. “Maybe we can just take a bath.”</p>
<p>“So you can walk around biting my head off for another two days before you work up the courage to try again? I don’t think so,” Harry says, pressing the showerhead into Louis’ lax hand. “We’re gonna do this now and get it over with.”</p>
<p>“God, way to make it sound like a chore,” Louis snipes, but he closes his fingers around it anyway. The shirt’s pillowing up around his body, and his back is already stiff from holding himself up so rigidly, which doesn’t even make sense. He’s sat in between Harry’s legs a thousand times before, and while it’s never been in a bathtub full of water it’s not like this body is really that much smaller than his normal one.</p>
<p>Harry laughs, the sound of it deep and manly. It’s strange how Louis had never noticed exactly how deep Harry’s voice is before. “Never really thought of helping a girl get herself off as a chore before.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. 19x19 Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Brats Being Brats</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Why do you think photoshoots always suck so much?” Louis asks thoughtfully, tilting his head back so he can look up at Harry’s face. Miguel, the photographer, swore that he would commit grievous bodily harm upon them if they moved so much as an inch, and Louis doesn’t believe that, but they have been a little uncooperative so far. Best not to push their luck too far.</p>
<p>Harry hums, shifting a bit behind Louis. “Because you’re incapable of sitting still for longer than five minutes?” he suggests.</p>
<p>Miguel left exactly seven minutes ago to replace a part on his camera. Louis is already fidgeting with boredom, which doesn’t help his case if he tries to prove Harry wrong. He huffs out a frustrated sigh, dropping back down onto his heels and goes back to watching the clock. They’ve been here for two hours already and it doesn’t seem like they’re going to be free any time soon.</p>
<p>Plus Louis is hungry. Bored and hungry. It’s never a good combination on him.</p>
<p>“When do you think lunch is?” Louis asks instead of responding to Harry’s statement. Anything he says is likely to get him a pinch in the ribs, and considering they’re both standing here shirtless it’s going to tickle, which means Louis will have to move to try to slap Harry in the balls, which means Harry is going to try to fight him off, which means that by the time Miguel comes back they’re going to be sweaty and covered in dirt from rolling around on the floor.</p>
<p>“God, not soon enough,” Harry sighs. Louis’ gaze drifts down to the floor, taking in the glitter surrounding them. Some of it has made its way onto Harry’s bare feet, and Louis really wants to make a joke about it. Something stupid to pass the time, because it’s really dragging.</p>
<p>Right on cue, Louis’ stomach starts grumbling. Harry laughs, hands coming up to press against Louis’ bare skin, one splayed out over his navel and the other across his right collarbone.</p>
<p>“Don’t touch me,” Louis says immediately, slapping at Harry’s hand. He gets a bit of skin between two fingers and pinches, expecting Harry to yelp and let go.</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t. Harry yelps, but instead of letting go he uses that one arm he has around Louis’ chest and hauls him up off his feet, dangling mid-air. It’s much harder to fight someone mid-air, but Louis gives it his best shot anyway, kicking and yelling and making a fuss. All it ends up doing is make Harry nearly lose his balance and fall over. He doesn’t, but it’s a close thing.</p>
<p>Until the blinding flash of a camera, goes off, that is. That’s what makes Harry slip, sending them both crashing to the floor. Louis lands on top, and he’s about ninety percent sure that’s due to his own amazing skills. The other ten percent is willing to believe that Harry twisted to land like that.</p>
<p>“Ow,” Harry says from underneath him.</p>
<p>Louis punches him in the shoulder, just for good measure. He had it coming.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The photo Miguel took of them like that, Louis mid-air in Harry’s arms, paint and body glitter all over them, that’s the one that makes it to the magazine cover. Louis thinks it looks more like a gay porn spread than a piece on a musical duo. Harry doesn’t stop laughing for an hour when Louis says as much.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“So why couldn’t we just do it at the same time? Now I’m all bored and shit,” Louis complains, trying to inch his chair out of Harry’s grip. It’s not really working.</p>
<p>“You couldn’t do it at the same time because you don’t wear the same size,” Caroline says, shaking a different but equally ugly floral shirt in his direction. “How about this?”</p>
<p>“Oh my god,” Louis says, scrunching his entire face up. Now seems like an appropriate time to start having a tantrum, so he goes to throw himself full body onto the floor.</p>
<p>Harry catches him by the belt before he’s even fully out of his seat, pulling him back roughly. Their shoulders knock together painfully, but before Louis can even start grousing about it Harry’s grabbing him by the face and forcing him to look up.</p>
<p>“What’s with you today?” he demands, catching the nipple twist Louis attempts to give him. “You’re being a right pain.”</p>
<p>“I’m not a pain, <i>you’re</i> a pain,” Louis retorts. Caroline mutters something that sounds unflattering underneath her breath before leaving the room entirely. She doesn’t throw her hands up in the air along the way but she might as well have.</p>
<p>“Jesus, Tommo, just pick something already,” Harry says, standing up and dragging Louis over to the racks of clothing. He lets go of one of Louis’ hands to gesture at the choice. “There’s plenty of stuff here.”</p>
<p>Louis fidgets a little more as he looks at the clothing. None of it is anything that he could wear. “It all sucks.”</p>
<p>Harry sighs and lets go of him completely, rifling through a rack until he comes out with a pair of bright red trousers. “Here, something you’d like.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“I’m not a fucking flower child,” Louis yells, hurling his dirty shirt at Harry as hard as he can manage.</p>
<p>Harry lets it hit him in the chest, which only makes Louis madder. “I know you’re not,” he says, hands open and up in the air, placating. “I didn’t say that you were.”</p>
<p>This entire week has been so fucking irritating, and this is only making it even worse. He throws the next closest thing at Harry, aiming for his face. It’s only a jacket, but his blood boils even more when Harry catches it and lets it drop to the ground, material pooling at his feet.</p>
<p>“Don’t fucking treat me like I’m fragile, then,” Louis spits, spinning around so he can find something else to use to fuck up Harry’s face. Maybe there’s a water bottle he can use to drown him.</p>
<p>“When have I <i>ever</i> treated you like you’re fragile?” Harry demands. His voice comes from much closer than Louis was expecting, so he grabs the open bottle of apple juice Harry was drinking earlier. It’ll do nicely.</p>
<p>He spins around with the intention of sloshing the entire thing in Harry’s face, only to get his wrist grabbed with a grip so tight Louis can’t shake it off.</p>
<p>He glances between his wrist and Harry’s face a couple of times, raising his eyebrows. Harry only raises his eyebrows right back, not giving in even a little.</p>
<p>Louis contemplates using his other hand to throw it in Harry’s face anyway, just for a second. He decides not to, because he’s not actually a hundred percent sure that he could do it before Harry grabbed that wrist, too.</p>
<p>“Every fucking day,” Louis says, letting the bottle drop from his fingers, uncaring of the way it splashes all over the carpet and Harry’s shoes.</p>
<p>“What are you even talking about?” Harry asks. He looks like he’s about five seconds away from using his grip to shake Louis into agreeing with him.</p>
<p>Nearly every single reporter they’ve ever talked to has made some comment about how different they are, what an unlikely team they make, but the last time Louis has felt it to this degree was that very first day they got paired together.</p>
<p>“Don’t touch me,” Louis says, trying to yank his wrist out of Harry’s grip. “I need to get changed, let me go.”</p>
<p>For a second, it seems like Harry’s going to grab Louis’ other wrist. Then he lets go all at once and takes a step back, letting his arms drop down to his sides.</p>
<p>Louis isn’t sure that he’s ever seen him look so hurt.</p>
<p>He can’t think about that without wanting to cry, though, and the last thing he wants right now is for Harry to see him cry yet again, so he turns around and pops the button on his stage pants, starts wiggling out of them.</p>
<p>He’s got them around his knees when Harry starts talking.</p>
<p>“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” Harry says. Louis can hear the frustration in his voice, and he knows, better than anyone, how much Harry struggles to let people know how he feels about them when he’s not writing lyrics, so he kicks off the trousers and listens.</p>
<p>“I don’t - fragile is the last word that comes to my mind when I think about you,” Harry continues. “God, I wouldn’t have any of this without you. None of this would be <i>possible</i> without you, and I know that I’m not the best at saying it, but you’re practically my entire world, you know that, right?”</p>
<p>God. Now Louis feels like crying for an entirely different reason.</p>
<p>“I don’t have a lot of people,” Harry says, right behind Louis now, “Not ones I really trust, anyway, and I get a little obsessive about you, sometimes, but - “ He breaks off with a frustrated sigh, putting his hand on Louis’ left shoulder and then, when Louis doesn’t protest, slips it down to rest on his belly, pulling them together, until there’s no space between them. “Don’t laugh, okay?”</p>
<p>Louis nods a little dumbly. “There’s been a lot of darkness in my life,” Harry says, squeezing Louis tight, his other arm slipping around his waist, “and it can be hard to remember that there are good things, sometimes, but all I have to do is look at you and it’s like, you’re my light.”</p>
<p>Louis’ breath catches, stutters in his throat. “And it’s just - I would give up everything else, everything we’ve built, if it meant that you would be safe and happy for the rest of your life.”</p>
<p>So much for not crying again.</p>
<p>“I know that you hate the way people look at us and think that you’re the vulnerable one because of the way I look,” Harry says, rocking them a little, the way he always does when he holds Louis like this, “And I get it, I do, but sometimes it’s like you’re the only good thing in my life and the only thing that I want is to keep it that way.”</p>
<p>It’s hard, trying to get Harry to loosen his grip enough for Louis to turn around, but he manages, linking his arms around Harry’s neck and pressing his lips to his cheek. “I love you too,” he says, because it doesn’t matter what words Harry uses to say it. He knows. He can feel it every day, how much Harry loves him, and it’s going to be so fucking hard when Harry realizes that the way Louis loves him back isn’t exactly platonic, but for now Louis can just let himself have this.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0046"><h2>46. Spiderman/Deadpool Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Superheroes<br/>Violence<br/>Comic Book Fights<br/>Sexual Content</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The witch’s goons edge in closer, surrounding them on three sides. Louis ducks a fist, dodges the swipe of a knife, kicks out a knee. Thanks whatever deity happens to be looking down on them at the moment that these particular bad guys aren’t using guns.</p>
<p>Small mercies and all.</p>
<p>A goon creeps up on him, flash of his blade quick and shiny. Louis webs it right out of his hand, tossing it back up over his shoulder and over the edge of the cliff before webbing the guy’s hands together.</p>
<p>“Aw, poor little bad guy, did I steal your toy?” Louis mocks, webbing another three knifes out of the way in one shot.</p>
<p>Ha. Score.</p>
<p>The goon doesn’t respond other than to make angry, frustrated noises as Louis webs his mouth shut as well. Suddenly, the sense that’s been niggling at the back of Louis’ brain goes haywire, exploding into action. The witch re-appears in a thick mist of green fog, and it’s been quiet for far too long. Louis has been the only one talking smack for a full two minutes, now, and that’s wrong.</p>
<p>That’s more than wrong.</p>
<p>Louis flips around, using the opportunity to take out a few more bad guys, and catches sight of Harry down on one knee, katanas thrust upwards through a guy’s shoulder. His eyes are cloudy, unfocused.</p>
<p>“H,” Louis yells, trying to get his attention, taking a step back in the process. Something is wrong here, very wrong.</p>
<p>Before Louis can figure it out, the witch is speaking. It’s a language Louis doesn’t recognize, one that sounds as though it’s been mashed together using words from at least ten other dialects. The green mist is growing, spreading, creeping towards them.</p>
<p>“H,” Louis repeats, more desperate this time, shooting webs as fast as he can. “H, we need to - ”</p>
<p>The witch cackles, shooting green goop out of her fingers. Louis barely dodges it in time, foot slipping on the loose gravel underneath it, and stumbles back into Harry’s chest.</p>
<p>Well, at least he’s standing now. Louis elbows him in the ribs, using the full force of his strength. Like he’s fighting his way through quicksand, Harry’s right hand goes down to fumble Maurice out of his holster, bringing him up to squeeze off three shots in rapid succession.</p>
<p>He’s nowhere near as fast as he usually is.</p>
<p>Louis’ spidey sense goes off again. He twists to the side, one hand on Harry’s forearm to drag him along, but he’s not fast enough. A glob of green goo hits him in the chest, just off the center, hard enough that Louis actually hears three of his ribs crack.</p>
<p>Three things happen all at once. One, Harry empties his clip into the witch’s chest. Two, the force of the blast of goop sends them another couple of steps backwards. Three, that loose gravel coating the ground slips more, giving way under their combined weight.</p>
<p>Then they’re falling.</p>
<p>“Motherfucker,” Louis swears, sending webs flying frantically, trying to catch on something and stop their fall.</p>
<p>The rocks are slippery with early morning dew. The silk of the webs slip off them, not doing anything to slow their descent. Desperately, Louis keeps trying, barely aware of the clutch of Harry’s arm around his waist, keeping them together as they fall.</p>
<p>One of the webs catches, holds. If Louis had the breath, he would be cheering. The web snaps, breaks, but the next one holds long enough for their fall to begin to slow, and the one after that does the same.</p>
<p>It’s not enough. They hit the ground hard, top of the cliff almost hidden from view, and Louis passes out.</p>
<p>Fucking witches.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Louis comes to, the first thing he registers is the cool prickle of air on his arms. He doesn’t have to look down to know that he’s no longer wearing his suit - spandex isn’t the greatest for warmth, but it definitely retains heat better than this.</p>
<p>The next thing he registers is that his ribs really fucking hurt. They don’t feel broken, luckily, but there’s definitely a few cracks in them.</p>
<p>“Fucking witches,” Louis mutters. Beneath him, Harry laughs.</p>
<p>Well. That explains why Louis’ arms are the only part of him that’s cold.</p>
<p>“Tell me you didn’t sneak a peek while you were undressing me,” Louis demands.</p>
<p>“I didn’t sneak a peek while you were undressing me,” Harry parrots obediently.</p>
<p>Louis snorts. “You’re a fucking liar.” He lets his head fall back against Harry’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Harry squeezes him. Louis’ ribs protest the movement. “I only snuck one peek while I was undressing you,” Harry amends. “But I couldn’t help it! You know what your arse does to me, baby.”</p>
<p>“One of these days I’m gonna throw you off the side of a building,” Louis mutters, more to himself than to Harry. “Christ, why the hell is it so cold in here? Feels like we’re in fucking Antarctica or something.”</p>
<p>“You’re grumpy when you’re wounded,” Harry observes. It sounds way too happy, that statement, like he’s enjoying Louis’ pain.</p>
<p>He probably is. Everyone knows that Deadpool is a bit of a masochist, makes sense that he’s a bit of a sadist, too.</p>
<p>“Gimme a blanket already, wanker,” Louis orders.</p>
<p>“Are you’re <i>sweary</i>, too,” Harry continues gleefully, snagging a blanket off the table in front of them with his freakishly long arms, draping it over Louis’ shoulders and chest. “Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman has a mouth on him. Who would’ve thought?”</p>
<p>If Louis didn’t hurt every time he inhales, that throwing off a building thing would be happening right now. As it is, the only thing he can manage to do is grumble under his breath.</p>
<p>He doesn’t realize how very wrong things are until about an hour later, after Harry’s turned on the telly and is mangling the words to some Japanese sitcom, and Louis says, completely out of nowhere, “Sometimes being a superhero sucks.”</p>
<p>Harry finishes his terrible rendition of the theme song before he responds. “Tell me about it, babycakes.”</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t know, you’re not a hero,” Louis says ungraciously. He doesn’t have time to feel even a little bit bad about it before his mouth is continuing, “Here I am, just sitting around doing nothing because I’ve got five cracked ribs - ”</p>
<p>“Three,” Harry interjects helpfully, picking up the remote so he can channel surf.</p>
<p>“<i>Five</i> cracked ribs,” Louis continues, “on a perfectly good Friday night - ”</p>
<p>“Saturday,” Harry corrects without pausing his channel surfing, which, even better. Louis has lost an entire day now.</p>
<p>“- when I could be at home sitting on my favourite dildo right now.”</p>
<p>The remote clatters right out of Harry’s hand, onto the floor. “Wait, what?”</p>
<p>“Between school and work and superhero-ing I never have any time to get myself off properly,” Louis complains bitterly. “It’s all, quick wank in the shower here, rushed jerk-off later. I never have time to bust out the dildo! Every time I so much as think about it something comes up, and it ain’t my cock.”</p>
<p>Behind him, Harry splutters. His hands squeeze Louis’ hips as though they have a mind of their own. “What kind of dildo?”</p>
<p>Louis opens his mouth to answer - </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hold on, none of this is going to make any sense without the context. Back up a little, yeah?</p>
<p>Rewind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0047"><h2>47. High School AU Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings</b>
</p>
<p>Parties<br/>Alcohol<br/>Dumb Jocks</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Louis is a little tipsy. The football team had won by a landslide, an amazing home game that tons of people had attended, so of course someone had to throw an after-party complete with a terrifying amount of alcohol. Louis has only had a few drinks, and only because Niall had kept pressing them into his hand, but that’s still no excuse for why he’s letting this happen right now.</p>
<p>“You know, you haven’t gotten any pictures of me yet,” Harry says. His voice is way too quiet for the noise coming from the living room. Louis is pretty sure that Harry would use it as his excuse as to why he’s pressing him into the wall, but Louis isn’t going to ask.</p>
<p>“It’s only been three days,” Louis points out.</p>
<p>“You’ve taken pictures of everyone else on the team,” Harry says challengingly. “Close ups, even.”</p>
<p>Louis shrugs. “I guess you’re just not pretty enough to warrant a close up.” His heart’s beating a little faster than normal.</p>
<p>Harry sways closer. All Louis can smell is him, sweat and boy and the lingering effects of some cologne that’s mostly worn off. “That’s a really hurtful thing to say to a boy,” Harry murmurs. “It might give them the impression that you don’t like them.”</p>
<p>“I don’t like you,” Louis responds immediately. He’s really fucking grateful for his camera right now, held between their bodies. If he didn’t have it their hips would probably be pushing together.</p>
<p>“What don’t you like about me?” Harry asks. His pout is completely ineffective with the stupid snapback he’s still got shoved backwards on his head, mashing his hair down. He looks like a dumb jock, and that’s never been Louis’ type.</p>
<p>“I don’t like that you encroach on people’s personal space,” Louis says. He wets his lower lip absently and regrets it as soon as he’s done it, because of course Harry fucking watches him do it. Harry’s eyes get a little darker as they drag back up towards Louis’, and Louis can tell what he’s about to do even before Harry tips his head back down.</p>
<p>The flash of the camera is blinding in the dimness of the hallway. Louis ducks underneath Harry’s arm and makes his escape, but not before stealing the snapback right off of Harry’s head.</p>
<p>Dumb jock has always been <i>exactly</i> Louis’ type.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Like most parties, this one is loud and crowded. Louis has only been here for twenty minutes, and in that twenty minutes the music has only gotten louder and bassier, and where there used to be elbow room, now there’s barely enough room to squeeze between bodies.</p>
<p>In all honesty, Louis isn’t even sure that he wants to be here right now. His mum literally pushed him out the door, and if he was home he could be helping to get the babies down or making dinner for the girls, helping them with their homework. Instead, he’s in the middle of a throng of people, drink in his left hand, pretending to be listening to whatever Zach from the football team is going on about.</p>
<p>He doesn’t even know how he ended up getting cornered by the dude. What he does know, though, is that the longer Zach keeps him trapped here the more likely it becomes that Harry’s going to end up taking his place. So with that in mind, he interrupts Zach in the middle of his story, patting him on the chest and slipping away. He heads for the kitchen, even though he still has half a drink left. Half of the cheerleading team has congregated in there, and while that’s still kind of dangerous it’s way less dangerous than what’s eyeing him from the living room.</p>
<p>Sasha’s house is big and expensive, but not so modern that it’s an open floor layout. Entering the kitchen takes him out of the view of prying eyes, and really that’s about all he can ask for. He lifts his cup to the chorus of cheers that greet him, letting himself get dragged into a conversation about who can do a better high kick.</p>
<p>“Don’t look now, but your secret admirer is admiring you again,” Nancy tells him, nodding towards the kitchen doorway.</p>
<p>Louis sighs, setting his cup down on the island and turning around. Harry’s not directly behind him, which Louis supposes is a plus. He’s even making a big pretence of being involved in a conversation that has nothing to do with Louis, talking to some guy Louis recognizes but doesn’t know the name of.</p>
<p>Letting Harry complete whatever bizarre plan he’s come up with this time isn’t going to work out in Louis’ favour, so he cuts it off at the head, marching up to Harry and interrupting his conversation. “Hi,” he says.</p>
<p>Harry grins at him, dimples and all. “Hi,” he echoes. “How you doing, you good? You need another drink?”</p>
<p>Louis rolls his eyes. “No, Harold, I don’t need another drink,” he says patiently. “I just came over to tell you that I’m not in the mood tonight, so don’t even bother trying.”</p>
<p>“Not in the mood for what?” Harry asks, still smiling. He shouldn’t look so good in a dumb hoodie and jeans, but he does, and it makes Louis irrational. Boys like Harry Styles are the last thing he needs in his life.</p>
<p>“Not in the mood for your terrible pick-up lines and weird flirting,” Louis says, matter-of-fact. “I didn’t come here tonight to get hit on by the likes of you.”</p>
<p>Harry doesn’t even have the decency to drop his smile. “Oh,” he says, reaching behind himself blindly to set his own drink down. “Okay. There’s plenty of other people here tonight I can hit on instead. No worries.”</p>
<p>He’s clearly only saying it because he wants Louis to seethe with jealousy at the mere thought. Louis arches an eyebrow instead, sweeping the room slowly with an arm. “Really?” he asks. </p>
<p>“Who exactly are you going to hit on here that you haven’t known since you were in diapers?”</p>
<p>Harry’s expression brightens and he crowds a little closer. Instantly, Louis knows it was the wrong thing to say. “You know what, you’re right,” Harry says slowly, a little mournfully. </p>
<p>“You’re the only person in this entire town I feel right about hitting on. I guess I really have no other options.”</p>
<p>Jesus fuck. Louis really should have thought this through.</p>
<p>“Stop it,” he orders, but he’s weak and they both know it, and he makes absolutely no effort to stop Harry from crowding him back against the countertop.</p>
<p>“I’m not doing anything,” Harry murmurs, so close Louis can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. “You’re the one with the hand in my pocket.”</p>
<p>Louis chews on the inside of his cheek, shrugging. He can feel Harry’s stomach muscles jumping underneath his hand even through the fabric of his hoodie, and he flattens his hand out, leaving it there. “’s cold in here.”</p>
<p>It’s really not. Louis doesn’t have time for a relationship right now, and Harry’s made it clear that’s what he’s after, but fuck if he doesn’t make Louis’ knees want to tremble sometimes.</p>
<p>“Freezing,” Harry agrees. “Let’s go out for dinner tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Depends,” Louis says, leaning back against the counter, letting Harry nudge his knees apart so he can step between them, “Where would you take me?”</p>
<p>“Anywhere,” Harry promises. “Everywhere. Wherever you want.”</p>
<p>There he goes again, making grand, absurd promises like they aren’t eighteen years old in the middle of the smallest town known to man with nothing but uncertainties in front of them. Like he thinks it’s reasonable to think that if they started dating they’d just never stop.</p>
<p>Louis’ knees may or may not be trembling right now.</p>
<p>“Of course,” Louis agrees, curling the fingers of the hand he doesn’t have buried in Harry’s pocket around Harry’s shoulder. “And what would we do during this dinner? Have appetizers and spaghetti?”</p>
<p>“Appetizers, spaghetti, whatever you want,” Harry says. “Talk, hold hands, take a walk afterwards. Maybe snog a little, too.”</p>
<p>“Sounds like a date,” Louis says, breathless.</p>
<p>“The datiest date,” Harry agrees. “Can I kiss you?”</p>
<p>Louis wants to say yes. He wants to give in, let Harry kiss him, let Harry hold his hand in hallways, walk him to class, carry his books for him, go on dates with him. He’s not going to do any of that.</p>
<p>“Tell me something,” he says, drawing his hand out of Harry’s pocket. “Do you fuck as slow as you talk?”</p>
<p>He doesn’t wait for a response, slipping out from underneath Harry’s arm and heading into the crowd. Knows Harry’s only a minute behind him as he does.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“So,” Harry says, boxing Louis in with an arm above his head and their bodies pressed close together, almost touching but not. “What do you think? Friday night, you, me, dinner?”</p>
<p>Louis shrugs one shoulder, fiddling with the hem of Harry’s shirt. The locker is cold against his back, and in order to get out of this position he’d have to shove Harry away.</p>
<p>He’s not super concerned about getting away.</p>
<p>“Thought you had a game on Friday night,” he says, slipping his fingers under the shirt, drifting through the coarse smattering of hair on Harry’s lower belly. </p>
<p>Instantly, Harry’s eyes darken, glaze a bit. They’re not just leaning together anymore, they’re actually tucked up together, here in the crowded hallway at school where anyone can see them. Where people <i>are</i> seeing them, watching Louis get hit on by this big dumb jock for the tenth time this week.</p>
<p>Louis - doesn’t mind. Hasn’t minded for a while now. And he’s pretty sure that he’s about five seconds away from giving in, and he knows that Harry knows that.</p>
<p>“After,” Harry presses. His hand shifts above Louis’ head, sliding down towards his neck. “You’re gonna be at the game anyway, right? We could do something after.”</p>
<p>Harry keeps leaning closer and closer, and the tingling in Louis’ belly says that Harry’s about to kiss him.</p>
<p>It wouldn’t be the first time. Louis’ been letting it happen more and more lately, despite what his sense of self-preservation tells him. He’s got responsibilities, things he has to do, people he has to take care of, and he doesn’t have time for a relationship with a big dumb jock who would monopolize his entire life.</p>
<p>“No,” Louis says, sucking the corner of his bottom lip into his mouth for a second, almost too aware of Harry watching him do it. “I have things to do tonight.”</p>
<p>It’s a lie. Louis’ entire evening is free and clear - the girls are going to the movies with his mum, and everyone else he knows is going to be attending the football game anyway. The most he would be doing is sitting at home staring at his homework, trying to convince himself to get it done.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Harry asks, pressing his thumb into the curve of Louis’ neck where it meets his shoulder. “What’re you doing?”</p>
<p>If Louis is smart he would say <i>none of your business</i>. Instead, he says, “Gotta take care of the girls.”</p>
<p>It’s three-thirty. School has been over for ten minutes, and instead of leaving Louis is here letting this guy hold him hostage against a bank of lockers. Louis wishes that he could say it was the first time, but he really doesn’t. That’s not feeling like a problem anymore.</p>
<p>“Really?” Harry asks, raising his eyebrows. His thumb is still pressed into Louis’ neck, and Louis’ fingers are still curled against Harry’s bare skin. “Your mum told me she’s taking them to the movies on Friday.”</p>
<p>“Stop talking to my mum about me,” Louis says. It’s less of a demand than he’d like, and it’s pretty clear Harry hears it.</p>
<p>Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say. Louis flattens his hand out against Harry’s stomach, enjoying the way Harry’s muscles jump under his fingers like he’s flexing.</p>
<p>He probably is. Jocks do that sort of thing, right?</p>
<p>“If I didn’t talk to your mum about you we’d just be sitting there chatting about the weather,” Harry says. Their mouths are a scant inch apart now, and Harry’s breath smells like mint. “Then she wouldn’t want to show me your baby pictures, either, and that would be a crying shame.”</p>
<p>Louis - wishes Harry was making that up, but he knows his mum, and he knows his mum probably did sit there and gleefully show Harry all of his embarrassing baby pictures. </p>
<p>“She’s my mum, she should be on my side,” Louis grumbles. If he leaned forward, just a bit, he could make their mouths meet easily. Harry’s bending his head to make it possible, and Louis wants to.</p>
<p>“She thinks I’m good for you,” Harry says gleefully, like he’s made it by getting Louis’ mum to like him.</p>
<p>Louis isn’t going to confirm it. Harry already knows it’s true, anyway.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Louis says abruptly.</p>
<p>Harry blinks. “Okay?” he repeats.</p>
<p>“After the game on Friday,” Louis says. “Don’t dilly dally or else I’m gonna change my mind and leave. You better be taking me somewhere nice.”</p>
<p>If it was anyone else but Harry, they’d probably be agreeing and setting up a time and place. It is Harry, though, and instead of doing that he leans in that final inch and kisses Louis, sure and deep. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed, not by a long shot, but the butterflies squirming in Louis’ belly want to have him believing it is.</p>
<p>Louis just. He opens up for it, lets himself get kissed deep and wet and intense, and thinks vaguely to himself that he’s probably making a huge mistake right now.</p>
<p>He doesn’t really care.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0048"><h2>48. Lap-Sitting Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>University<br/>Unrealistic Situations</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s a person blocking the light in Harry’s corner of the library. Their shadow is making it impossible to read, hovering in front of Harry as though they’re waiting to be noticed.</p>
<p>Harry’s not quite sure why they think he hasn’t noticed them, seeing as their shins are pressed right up against Harry’s knees, but Harry doesn’t exactly have a reputation for being the swiftest cookie in the jar, so.</p>
<p>He looks up, but not as far as he might have expected. The guy standing in front of him is on the short side, lush and curvy, sporting black jeans and a gigantic hoodie he’s practically swimming in, topped off with a beanie pulled haphazardly over his messy hair.</p>
<p>“Can I help you?” Harry asks politely, tugging his headphones off.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna need to sit in your lap,” the guy announces. Harry can feel his eyebrows climbing up his forehead.</p>
<p>“Sorry?” he asks, because there’s no way that he could have heard that right. The guy does seem slightly unhinged, deep bags underneath his eyes, manic look in his eyes, but still. No one just comes up to a bloke and demands to sit in their lap.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna need to sit in your lap,” the guy repeats. “I’m also gonna need you to rub my back and not say anything while I cry into your shoulder for ten minutes.”</p>
<p>Harry opens his mouth. Closes it. That. Just. What?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0049"><h2>49. Rimming Fic Snippets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content Warnings:</b>
</p>
<p>Explicit Sexual Content<br/>A Lot Of Rimming Talk But No Actual Rimming</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“God, I miss being able to eat pussy any time I want,” Harry sighs. He plucks the joint from Louis’ fingers and takes a long drag. Louis wiggles impatiently until Harry places it back between his lips.</p>
<p>“That’s so weird,” Louis mumbles. He inhales without using his hands, so it wobbles and he ends up coughing a little.</p>
<p>“It’s not weird,” Harry says defensively. “If you like, if you pull a girl who’s a little bit older, who knows what she wants, and she like, pulls your mouth right where she wants it. It’s so.”</p>
<p>Louis hums and closes his eyes. “And the taste,” Harry continues wistfully. “If you do it right she’ll just come apart on your tongue.”</p>
<p>“Gross,” Louis says. He tucks his cold fingers underneath Harry’s shirt.</p>
<p>“Well of course you’d think it’s gross,” Harry says. “Isn’t there anything you miss, though?”</p>
<p>Louis spaces out for a minute. There’s a lot of things he misses, a lot of things he used to be able to do whenever he wanted that he literally never gets a chance to now.</p>
<p>Harry pinches his elbow. “Well?” he demands.</p>
<p>“I dunno, being eaten out,” Louis says. He shakes Harry’s fingers off his elbow and steals the blunt back.</p>
<p>The thing is, if this was anyone but Harry, if it was any of his friends from back home, they might have joked around about it, but the conversation would have ended there.</p>
<p>But it is Harry, so Louis finds himself saying, “I’d find a guy who couldn’t really, who didn’t have time for much, one who wanted a pretty boy but couldn’t get one of his own, and he’d just do it until I was coming and he’d be happy about it, even when I didn’t let him get anything else.”</p>
<p>There’s a pause. It feels like a long pause, but Louis is also high, so he can’t really tell how long it actually is.</p>
<p>“You fucked married men?” Harry asks incredulously. Louis squirms some more, elbowing Harry in the ribs harder.</p>
<p>“No, you arse,” he mutters, wiggling until the top of his head is tucked underneath Harry’s armpit. He feels secure there, safe. “There’s a type of guy, is all. I needed guys who would be happy with what I was willing to give them, alright?”</p>
<p>Harry exhales smoke over their heads slowly. “Okay,” he says, and lets it go.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Louis yanks off his other shoe and throws that one at him, too. “Fuck you,” he snarls. Harry slaps the shoe out of the air before it can hit him.</p>
<p>“I’m not going to keep doing it,” Harry says. He widens his stance, like that’s going to have any effect on Louis. No matter how big he might get, Harry will always be the boy who trips over puppies and walks into smoke blasters and kneels down to talk to children, who’s always slouching.</p>
<p>The only person he ever really tries to seem bigger around is Louis, and that pisses him right the fuck off.</p>
<p>“Oh, what a shame,” Louis says, dripping sarcasm. “Now I won’t have to walk around with spit dripping down my thighs whenever your mouth gets cold. I have no idea how I’m going to survive without that, honestly.”</p>
<p>Harry’s eyes darken. “You wouldn’t survive a week without.”</p>
<p>Louis raises an eyebrow. “You don’t honestly think you’re that good, do you? You’re not even in my top five.” He turns around, dismissive, and goes to root through his bag for clean clothes to wear.</p>
<p>He should’ve expected the heat of Harry against his back, should’ve seen it coming, but somehow it’s still a surprise when Harry pulls him back, off balance, right into his chest.</p>
<p>“I think that I’m your number one,” Harry murmurs, right into his ear. “I eat you out so good that the sheets always end up wet with your tears, don’t they?”</p>
<p>Louis inhales sharply. That is one of those things they don’t talk about, the crying thing, much like the actual rimming thing.</p>
<p>Except for the fact that they’re apparently talking about both of those things now.</p>
<p>“Don’t think that you’re special just because I get emotional when I’m getting me arse eaten, Styles,” Louis manages. Harry’s arm feels like a brand across his chest, holding him in place. Louis could break the hold if he tried, but then it would seem like he’s running away, and he’s not doing that.</p>
<p>“Right. And the things you say when you’re about to come, I should ignore those too? An’ the fact that you can come from just my tongue? I should ignore that? That if I have long enough I don’t even have to get a hand around you?”</p>
<p>Harry rocks his hips forward, just enough for Louis to feel him. Louis wraps his fingers around Harry’s arm; means to pull it away from him. Doesn’t.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="http://crazyupsetter.tumblr.com/">My tumblr</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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